


On and On and On

by sina



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alcohol, Light Masochism, M/M, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-08 10:17:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 29,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8840737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sina/pseuds/sina
Summary: Bitty and Jack have some communication issues. When Kent finds himself involved with both of them, he begins picking up the same habits - or perhaps doing even worse.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [PBJ_EpiFest_2016](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/PBJ_EpiFest_2016) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Song/Artist: Talking Body / Tove Lo  
> Prompt Details: Established zimbits, more recently established pb&j. Kent tries to solve all of his relationship problems with sex--after all, that's what Bitty and Jack want him for, isn't it?  
> Additional Info: Maybe Kent's strategy works better with Jack but after a while Bitty realizes the problem and tells Kent they need to talk.  
>  
> 
> This is a fic I’ve had on the backburner for a long time mashed up with the prompt, so there’s a lot of exposition that’s all there because if a frankenfic I didn’t have fully written and pushed into my idea for this one. This is my first fanfic ever, so please feel free to send constructive criticism!  
> Kent only smokes on the off season. I didn’t look up LV smoking laws, just used the ones that I’m familiar with.  
> This isn't a song fic but the song makes an appearance at least once.

When Kent sits on the rock barrier between the building and the street, baking in the Las Vegas heat, the last thing he expects is to meet Jack Zimmermann’s boyfriend. Supposed boyfriend? Well, okay, fine. Boyfriend.

After lighting a cigarette and taking a deep first puff, he pushes his sunglasses high on the bridge of his nose and breathes out. It’s hot enough to make his hair curl slightly at the tips as he pulls in a clean breath. It sucks that he wore a black Aces tee to the gym today.

“Excuse me,” comes a soft voice somewhere to his right. “Can I bum one?”

His eyes meet the deep brown pair belonging to a small man with a rolling suitcase. Blond, like Kent himself. “Sure, yeah, here,” he replies, digging the pack out of his pocket and shaking another cigarette loose. The man fiddles with it for a second, before resolutely sticking it behind his ear.

“Saving it for later?” Kent jokes. Well. it’s not really a joke, but he doesn’t know what else to say. He takes another puff, inhaling the bittersweet burn of ash and tobacco.

“Ahh. Um. Actually, you can have it back,” the man replies, handing it back. Kent looks confused as he slides it back into the pack, then slides the pack into a pocket in his gym bag. “I just wanted a reason to talk to you,” he clarifies, shuffling lightly on his feet. There’s a hint of a Southern twang there.

“Oh, okay.” The guy looks a little awkward. “Don’t worry, I’ve heard worse excuses,” he replies lightly. The Southern guy chuckles. Kent thrusts his hand forward. “Hi. Kent Parson. Does my reputation precede me?”

“Ah, no!” The guy responds. “I’ve, well, we’ve actually met before.”

“Have we?” Kent replies. “I’m sorry I didn’t remember. I meet a lot of people.”

“Yeah, no, I didn’t expect you to remember,” Blondie responds, taking Kent’s hand and shaking it.

“So are you here, uh, visiting?” Kent asks. He can’t place the blond guy’s face, exactly, but it kind of rings a bell.

“Sort of. Well, I’m here to see a friend. Um, my boyfriend. You’ve also met him. I’m Eric. Most people call me Bitty,” he replies. “And not to be hypercritical, but… should you really be smoking right outside of a gym?”

“I’m 25 feet away from the entrance,” Kent protests.

“No, I mean -- with the -- you’re a hockey star, Kent. You can’t be that and a smoker at the same time.”

Kent offers up one of his signature smirks, and maybe he imagines it, but he chooses to pretend the boy’s knees actually buckled a little bit. 

“I find I can do pretty much whatever I want to on the off season, actually.” He finally realizes he hasn’t let Bitty’s hand go. Well, Bitty didn’t let go either.

 

And that’s how it begins.


	2. Chapter 2

“Zimms! You didn’t tell me you were dating a carbon copy of ME!” Kent barks into the phone. Bitty’s at the bar, ordering a round of afternoon cocktails for the pair of them.

“Well, I’ve been here for, what, a few weeks? It’s not like my gay boyfriend is going to come up at a bunch of fundraising socials. Also, he’s not a carbon copy of you. Also, how did you know?” Jack says, sounding progressively more irritated. Kent laughs. It’s his favorite way to make Jack feel these days.

“It’s a secret. Anyway, I gotta go. Cocktails and fans to tend to.” He presses the screen to end the call. Jack rolls his eyes once the screen goes black, as if Parse could see him at all. He puzzles over it, which annoys him. He also knows Kent knows it will annoy him, which only serves to annoy him even further. He tries to stop thinking about it as he powers the treadmill back up to continue his run.

“All right, two Hurricanes. I put them on your tab, by the way,” Bitty says as he slides into the booth across from Kent. 

“As is only proper,” Kent hums, taking his glass from Bitty and littering a touch of salt on a cocktail napkin, though he knows it isn’t necessary. 

“So I’m guessing we met at Samwell, then,” he begins.

“Yeah, at Epikegster 2014. Er, that huge party at the end of the semester,” Bitty clarifies, looming over his own drink and looking at it like it might bite.

“Ouch. I’m sorry. You were the kid outside Jack’s room, weren’t you?” Bitty nods. “I’m sorry that was your first impression of me.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Bitty says, looking back up. “It was ages ago. And Jack hasn’t told me… much, about you, but enough so that I know you’re not completely evil.”

“Oh, that’s surprising.”

“What, that he doesn’t think you’re completely evil?”

“That anyone thinks I’m not completely evil.” Kent laughs at his own joke before downing a huge mouthful of his own drink, completely disregarding a cabana full of potential onlookers.

“Well, I’m here,” Bitty says with a small chuckle. “That’s worth something, right?”

“Yeah, I’m kind of curious how _you_ don’t think I’m completely evil.”

“Well, you can thank Jack for that,” Bitty says, pulling the umbrella out of his drink before taking a tenuous first sip through the straw.

“All I have to thank him for is for outing me to you,” Kent mutters. Bitty throws a look at him from beneath his eyebrows that Kent guess is meant to be threatening. “Kidding, I’m kidding. It seems like an obvious thing that he’d tell you that he and I were… whatever.” he continues. “Jack’s been surprisingly great since the trade.”

“Yeah, it was… a surprise for him, I think,” Bitty says, leaning back into the seat. “It was for both of us, I mean. I’m sorry for him outing you to me, for what it’s worth.”

“I’ve got other things I can be angsty about. And I can imagine it was weird for him to find out,” Kent says. He removes his cap to run his fingers through his hair. “Sorry this is your second impression of me, too. I bet I stink from the gym.”

“I didn’t plan it, promise,” Bitty replies. “I’m on the way to my hotel and there you are, and it felt like it’d be wrong not to say hi. Now that you’re teammates and all again.”

“Again,” Kent hangs on the last word. “Yeah. Weird. So you really think it was a good idea to come as a surprise?”

“Why not? He doesn’t hate them or anything.”

Kent raises a brow. “That’s news to me.”

“Well, maybe he’s changed more than you know.”

“Oh, trust me, I’m plenty braced for that.”

“Probably wise,” Bitty replies.

A pause lingers between them.

“I just. I think he’d be happy to see you even without the surprise, right?” Kent suggests.

“Well, sure, but the surprise is a pleasant one, so again, why not?”

“I’d have let him know, is all.”

“Well, you’re not the one dating him, Parser.” Kent’s face goes totally blank at that. “Uh,” Bitty backpedals. “Sorry, that was… very rude and totally uncharacteristic of me, where are my manners?” Bitty blushes a furious red as he apologizes.

“Nah, no hard feelings,” Kent says, literally shrugging it off. “It’s in the past now. What you said, I mean. Well, I guess Jack and me are too.”

“Do you want to try to be friends again, do you think?” Bitty asks tentatively.

“Sure. It’s kind of up to him at this point, though,” Kent muses. “I made my move a long time ago. And it’s all been cordial since he got here, so, I guess I can only hope that continues, or like, gets better, really.” 

“I understand,” Bitty replies. “He wasn’t exactly warm when he and I met, either.”

Kent nods. “This conversation got weirdly personal weirdly fast,” he notes, “but then, so did things with Jack when I tried to befriend him, too.”

“So we’re friends now?” Bitty implores. It’s fascinating for Kent to watch - he wasn’t expecting them to get along, either, if he admits it. 

Of course, he didn’t know Jack was seeing anyone - but if Bitty were able to share that information with someone, who better than Jack’s long-ago ex? It’s clever, really: no one’s really getting outed in this situation, since Kent knows anyone Jack dated would ask about him eventually. Plus, Kent already knew about Jack’s sexuality - well, that he liked boys, that is - so Jack isn’t getting outed either. It’s almost like Bitty planned this. Could he have planned this? Parse wonders. He settles on ‘no,’ he couldn’t have - he would have no way of knowing where and when exactly to find Kent, but for not being a plan, it was at least awfully lucky.

“Sure,” he responds after another pause. “Why not?” It feels good to be the one asking that. Like turning Bitty’s own question on his head. God, life must be getting really boring if this is how he’s getting his kicks out of it: being the one get to play with words himself for once. His teammates aren’t unintelligent, but it’s nothing like having conversations with college boys.

Bitty doesn’t answer.

“So when are you going to do your big reveal, or whatever?” he says before the conversation lulls again, waving a hand in something like a circle.

“Is it bad that I haven’t actually planned that far?”

Speaking of getting to manipulate things. 

Kent laughs. “Dude. Do you want to totally scare him to death as badly as I do?”

“Not at all!” Bitty says. It’s almost a squeal. It’s almost cute. But then he pauses, as though considering. “Um, I mean, hang on. What are you thinking?” Sometimes he does still want to get Jack back for those brutal checking practices. He blushes lightly, and Kent totally doesn’t think it’s cute.

“Oh, nothing special. Just something to make the surprise even more surprising.”

“Okay. I’m listening.”

“It’s mean. My idea, that is. It’s mean.”

“I’m still listening.”

 

\------------

 

Later that night, there’s a knock at Jack’s door. It’s weird; he doesn’t know a lot of people in Vegas yet, and he isn’t expecting Bitty for two more weeks. When he opens the door and it’s Parse standing there, freshly showered and smelling like some sort of pine concoction, he groans out loud and walks away. Since he left the door open, Kent assumes he’s allowed in. 

“Parse, what are you doing here? You know I only gave you my address for emergencies.”

 

“Well, Jack, I believe I’ve found an emergency,” he responds coolly, easing the door shut closed with a foot. (He’s proud of his balance. He’s proud of most things about himself; the validation has to come from somewhere, right?) He doesn’t even look away as he turns the lock back into place.

“Okay, fine. What is it? I’m trying to watch this documentary, and ---”

“God, Jack, you watch documentaries all the time. Can’t make a little time for your first best friend anymore?”

“I never make time for you. What’s the emergency, Kent?”

That gets Kent to shut up, momentarily. He clear his throat before starting, “Well… it’s about this boyfriend of yours, in fact.”

“Yeah, about that!” Jack finally turns to face him. “How do you know about that? Have you been talking to him? On the Twitter or something? Because that’s his personal business, and --” 

“Jack. Stop trying to push me away. It’s been long enough,” Kent says, his natural flirtatious instincts taking over. “This has been a long time coming. You owe me a few minutes, especially before the season starts, don’t you think?”

Jack has to admit that he’s right. They’re not about to start playing good hockey together without talking about their… whatever this weirdness is. So he shuts up. “Okay. Go ahead, then.”

“So… I admit it. I was talking to Bitty on the Twitter.” It’s already hard not to laugh, simply at Jack’s complete lack of social awareness. He just knew the Falcs PR was running Jack’s own Twitter account this whole time.

Jack grunts, as if to to say, knew it. A pause. “Well. Go on.”

Kent shuffles (a lot like Bitty did just hours before, actually). “He, um… he made me think about… you know.” He looks imploringly at Jack. Jack stays silent. So Kent clears his throat again. “He made me think of… us. Back when there was an ‘us.’”

Jack just makes an aggravated noise at that. “Kent. Stop it. It’s not your business what Bitty and I have, okay? And all that… that stuff… is in the past now. It’s going to stay there, too. Do you need me to show you out?” He starts moving toward Kent - no - toward the door.

“No, no! Wait! You said you’d hear me out!” Kent protests, throwing his hands in the air in front of him. “This is important. We have to talk about it.”

Everything had actually been fine, but Kent wasn’t about to give Jack a moment to protest.

“Kenny --” he let slip “-- things have been fine, and they’re going to stay that way, you know? Now can you please --”

“No! No.” He repeats. “Camp is coming up. The season’s coming up; and this one is going to be huge. Once they announce the trade, everyone’s going to expect us to either put up or fuck up. Which one do you want it to be, huh?”

Jack falls silent, though he doesn’t look happy about it.

“That’s what I thought,” Kent continues. “All that stuff we used to do… all that chemistry on the ice, man. What if it’s just because we used to have… like, real chemistry?” 

Jack rolls his eyes. He’s fed up, but Kent can’t help but push. Pushing it was always something he was great at, after all.

“I’m serious, Zimms! We should… we can give it another shot, don’t you think? We should at least -- to see if -- that’s all it was before.”

“Maybe we should keep skating first, and have this conversation later if we need to,” Jack suggests coldly. “Like never. Because we’re both strong players apart, and we’ll be strong together again.”

“But how do you know --”

“Why are you pushing this?”

“You know why I’m pushing this! Don’t make me say it again!” If Kent was about to laugh before, he’s about to goddamn burst at this point. The act is hard to keep up, though he’ll never admit out loud that it’s because he’s been dying to have this very conversation for years.

“No, don’t. Don’t say anything else. This case is closed, Parse,” Jack insists. “Can’t you just leave things in the past where they belong?”

“How do I know that that’s where they belong if we never try it again?” Kent asks, gentle now. 

Silence descends upon the room again, this time swollen and soft. Jack looks so surprised, Kent almost wants to burst out and yell ‘Surprise!’ but had completely forgotten about the plan with this admission. He forgot, through all the years, that he had always wanted to know the answer to this, and forgot how badly he wanted to know the answer.

He takes a step closer to Jack. It’s just the plan. It’s all going according to plan.

But Jack doesn’t move. And that is not part of the plan.

And Kent invades his personal space. And that was not part of the plan.

And Kent lays a gentle kiss, first on Jack’s cheek, and when Jack still doesn’t move, another on his mouth. And Jack still doesn’t move. It’s not exactly the kiss Kent had dreamt of for years leading up to their fight at the party, but it’s still a kiss. And it’s still not part of the plan.

He brings his hands up to Jack’s chest, and deepens the kiss. And to his legitimate surprise, Jack reacts not with anger, but with... eagerness. Jack’s hands land on Kent’s waist, and begin to trail to the small of his back, when suddenly, they hear the click and thump of Jack’s lock and the creak of the door opening.

The two separate quickly, but the frisson lingers in the air. Kent can feel it. He knows Jack can feel it, too: both of their faces are completely on fire as they turn to face the cause of their incendiary conversation.

 

“Th -- this,” Bitty begins tentatively. “This was a bad idea.” The door swings shut behind him.

 

\------------

 

“I can’t believe you planned this with him! Behind my back!”

Jack and Bitty are sitting in Jack’s living room, on all the plush, matching, light blue furniture Bitty actually picked out for Jack.

“Well, not the whole thing,” Bitty grumps. “You weren’t supposed to kiss him.”

“I wasn’t --!!” Jack spluttered. “He’s the one who kissed me!”

“Yeah, that wasn’t supposed to happen either,” Bitty snaps, not interested in mincing words. “Not that you care. I saw you, Jack. Don’t lie to me about him again. If there’s still something there, you have to tell me!”

“I don’t -- I can’t believe -- this conversation doesn’t make any sense! You’re still the one who planned this whole stupid surprise!”

“Yes, and it backfired spectacularly, you see, so. Lesson learned,” Bitty mutters, looking away. He can’t help but note that Jack dodged the subject and said nothing about Kent. He didn’t appreciate the lack of honesty.

Jack, still red as his old Samwell jersey, says nothing, but stops pacing.

“Look. I’m going back to my hotel. Thank god I booked one in case you weren’t ready for me. If you need someone to yell at, yell at Parson,” Bitty finishes. “It seems like maybe I’m not the one you should be having relationship talks with.”

“Bitty, don’t,” Jack pleads. “This is so fucked up, please don’t… don’t say that. Don’t leave.”

“Jack, why do you feel like you have to lie to me?”

Jack says nothing, instead sinking onto the sofa and looking down where his hands are clutched between his knees.

Bitty takes a deep breath before responding, “Yeah, it was fucked up. It wasn’t what we planned, and actually, I think it was fucked up that I trusted him to begin with. I’m sorry that we -- that I -- conspired against you. I thought it would be funny and it got fucked up. But I need to think, so I’m going to do it somewhere else. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Okay,” Jack whispers. “Can I at least call you a cab?”

“It’s not far,” Bitty replies. “I’ll talk to you later.”

The last time Jack’s door shuts that night, it stays closed. The documentary DVD home page flickers across the TV screen, forgotten.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Couple of song mentions in this chapter! The first is Hang With Me by Robyn, and the second is Talking Body (WDL remix) by Tove Lo and Johan Wedel.

Bitty didn’t plan for any of this. He actually planned to get to his hotel, take a shower, and greet Jack at his door after giving him a chance to do the same before popping up on his doorstep. He had no idea he was about to meet Kent Parson for a second time, out on the streets of Vegas. He had no idea that he’d run up to him on purpose. He had no idea he would take Kent out for a drink, and had no idea they would semi-drunkenly concoct a plan to tease and annoy Jack. He had no idea Parse was planning to kiss Jack, and less of an idea that Jack would kiss him back. He certainly had no idea he’d be the one left embarrassed and annoyed.

He takes a deep breath as he stomps down the sidewalk on some random, quiet Vegas street. Of course he hadn’t splurged on a fancy hotel on the strip. Maybe if Jack had been privy to the plan, he’d be in some five-star casino somewhere, but when it came to his own savings, he had to be a little wiser.

Another thing Bitty hadn’t planned was to run into Parse again, but there he was. Across the street, beneath a street light and backlit by the pink neon window decor of some club, was Bitty’s own personal devil of the day. Perhaps against his better judgement, he went off-plan once more to stalk straight up to the man and smack him across the face.

“What the FUCK was that, Kent Parson?” He said, barely containing a scream. Kent looked absolutely flummoxed as he reached up to touch the new burning handprint blossoming on his cheek bone.

“Wait, you’re Kent Parson?” said the innocent guy Kent appeared to have been talking to when Bitty stormed in. 

“He’s the devil, is who he is!” Bitty shrieks back. The guy's just perceptive enough to notice just then that he isn’t welcome, turns tail, and flees.

“Aww, come on,” Kent groans. “I was about to bury my feelings in that guy’s ass tonight, and you just ruined it.”

“You ruined my relationship! I think you’ll manage!” Bitty hisses again, barely beneath another scream. And then he slaps him again.

“Okay. Okay, yeah, that’s fair. I deserved that,” Kent murmured, rubbing at his cheek in an attempt to avoid a bruise. Then his jaw drops, ever so slightly. “Wait, really?”

“Yes, really!” Bitty growls. “What the hell was that? You were just supposed to annoy him a lot, not fucking take him from me!”

Kent barely stops himself from laughing out loud. “I didn’t steal him, Bits! It was just a stupid fucking -- I just --” He pants, exasperated. “I didn’t plan it, either, I swear to God.”

“Well excuse me, but you swearing on anything means so little to me,” Bitty spits. 

Kent continues rubbing his cheek, mulling that over. “Look, I guess we need to talk. I mean, for real, we need to talk. Can I buy you a drink? I clearly don’t have plans tonight anymore.”

“Kent Parson, you owe me at least fifty drinks,” Bitty snaps, and drags Kent into the club by his wrist.

 

\-----

 

“So you honestly, genuinely didn’t expect the kiss.”

“I swear on my sweet, sweet mother, who was a saint and a goddess and never deserved a son as awful as me,” Kent crosses his heart and proselytizes himself from across the table in the VIP booth he snagged. Being mildly famous has its perks, after all. “I was actually expecting him to - to back up, or to smack me or something. So, like, good on you for picking up on the hint that I needed to be smacked, I guess.”

“I can’t believe this,” Bitty moans into his beer. “I can’t believe this is happening to me.”

“Hey, if it makes you feel any better? I can guarantee you that Zimms is feeling the exact same way.”

Bitty glares back at that statement. “Of course that doesn’t make me feel better. I hate seeing him in pain. Something you apparently don’t recognize.”

Kent ignores the insult and continues on. “So then it should be easy for you to forgive each other and move on.”

“What exactly did you say to him?”

“Just some hockey junk and I flirted a bunch and… I don’t know. I think he was just surprised, and that’s why things just exploded the way they did,” Kent shrugs, staring into the bottom of his empty glass.

“Does everything ‘just explode’ around you?” Bitty jabs. Kent sighs and nods.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m a fucking mess and I fucking mess things up. Everywhere I go. All the time,” he laments. And it’s so fucking dramatic, Bitty thinks, but he can’t help but feel a tiny bit of sympathy. Parse sounds genuine, after all.

“Well, hell. Maybe we are carbon copies of each other.” Bitty shrugs.

“Hey, come on. Obviously you’re doing something right if Jack thinks so highly of you.”

“You think?”

“Must be. He hasn’t overdosed on you, so. You know.” At this point, Parse sounds genuinely morose, and Bitty can’t help it: it’s really sad and pathetic, and he feels kind of bad for the guy.

“Hey. I have an idea,” Bitty says, in his best cheer-up voice. “Why don’t we go out there and dance? Just loosen up a little bit?”

“Hmm. Yeah, why not,” Kent shrugs again. “That’s something I don’t usually mess up too badly, eh?”

“Oh, god, stop before you start with the ‘eh’s,’” Bitty grumbles. “Jack says it all the time and it drives me crazy.” 

“I know, right? I was only in Canada for a couple years, and it’s irreversible. Tell you what, if I ever say it again you get to smack me again.”

“I will certainly take you up on that offer,” Bitty replies, and this time, when he grabs Kent’s wrist, it’s gentle as he leads him out to the dance floor.

 

\------

 

After a few too many drinks and a few too many good songs, things start to heat up and Bitty is… surprised. Uncomfortable. A mixture of both? Not unhappy enough with this turn of events, that’s for sure.

And this was also not how Bitty planned this evening.

Rather than sitting at his future home in his current boyfriend’s sleepy embrace, he’s grinding on Kent Parson in some random Vegas club, feeling too hot and too drowsy to admit how much he loves it.

But Kent seems to love it, too, so what can he do?

Unfortunately, the DJ seems to have switched to kind of a moody set, and Bitty isn’t feeling it as much as he wants to. He sighs and breaks away from Kent.

“Everything okay?” Parse yells, and it’s just loud enough - or maybe he’s good enough at reading lips - that Bitty picks up on it.

“Fine. I kind of want another drink.”

Kent rolls his eyes. “College boys.” But he guides Bitty away from the dance floor with an arm around his shoulders: entirely too familiar, and yet, not quite affectionate enough for Bitty’s drunken desires.

Kent flags down a waitress for another round of drinks. “And hey,” He adds. “Can you do anything about this weird bullshit they started playing? Kind of harshing the vibe.”

“You can go up to the DJ and make requests yourself,” the waitress says after clarifying his order. “His name’s Marco. Sweet kid.”

The next thing Bitty knows, Parse has disappeared into the crowd, presumably to go talk to the DJ. He sits through another thudding, emotional ‘80s track before he hears a set of electronic beeps, bops and chimes and thrumming techno beats he knows entirely too well.

It’s Robyn.

“Oh, fuck,” Bitty swears, suddenly fixated on his drink. 

As Kent slides back into the booth, Bitty redirects his glare in the offending man’s direction.

“Jack told you, didn’t he? I can’t believe he told you! How can you do this to me after I basically forgave you?” Bitty yells, slamming a hand onto the table.

“Told me what?” Parse looks at him, nonplussed.

“The Robyn thing! He told you about the Robyn thing, didn’t he? The rat bastard!” Bitty drunkenly spits.

“Well I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Kent admits, “But now you have to tell me.”

“Oh god,” Bitty says slowly, realization dawning that Jack really couldn't have told him. He rests his head on the table. “What have I done, oh my God.”

Kent smirks down at Bitty’s languid form. “C’mon, I’ve decided how you can pay me back for all the drinks. It’s this. This is how you’re going to pay me back.” 

“Kent Parson,” Bitty slurs. “You’re going to have to kill me first,” he looks up from his limp location across the booth.

“Aw, come on,” Kent chides back. “You’re full of alcohol. You could die at any time. You might die tomorrow. Now’s the perfect time!” He grasps Bitty’s hands in his own, smirk firmly in place.

“Okay,” Bitty says, and it’s a testament to just how drunk he is that he’s willing to impart the information on someone who isn’t Jack. “But not one mention of this happening to Jack. Ever. I mean it.”

“I’m a man of my word,” Kent promises, crossing his heart just to be sure.

“Okay,” Bitty says, breathing deeply, and then closing his eyes. “When I was in high school, there was this talent show.”

“Talent show,” Kent parrots back.

“Yes, talent show. Do you want to know or not?”

“Of course I do!”

“Then don’t interrupt!” Bitty snaps. He takes another breath to center himself. “Right, so. Talent show.”

Kent just nods this time.

“And my teammates, you know, on the hockey team… came up with this dare. This dare that I couldn’t out-skate one of my female teammates, this girl who was also in figure skating before moving out to Madison. And of course, I hit a rough patch of ice and went flying off to the right and… And I lost the bet, basically.” He quietens, seemingly finished.

So Kent prompts, “So what did you have to do?”

“I’m getting there,” Bitty snaps again. “I’m getting there. So the bet was that, like, whoever lost the bet, would have to give the other a--.... A lap dance on stage. At the talent show.”

“Oh my GOD,” Kent bursts, unable to help himself. “You had to give this chick a lap dance?”

“Yeah.”

“In front of the whole school.”

“That’s what I said.”

“To… to Robyn, I’m guessing?”

“Yeah. To ‘Hang with Me.’”

“Oh my god.”

“I know.”

Silence falls between them, though Kent has to admit he’s impressed.

“So what happened?” He presses on.

“Luckily,” Bitty sighs, “I told them about the bullying I went through at my other school, and at the last minute, I didn’t have to do it.”

Kent lets out a breath. “Well. Thank god for that, then.”

“Yeah,” Bitty replies. “But we had to do the whole choreography and everything. Prove I was…. I was really about do it, before they all let it go.”

“Okay,” Kent replies, an absolutely evil grin on his face then. “So you’re going to prove it to me, too, right?”

“Oh my god.” 

“We’ve got… hang on… like four tracks to go,” Kent says. “I asked him to play the whole album.” 

“The whole --?” Bitty’s incredulous. “How? Why?”

“Because you got so mopey! And who doesn’t love Robyn? And he took the $100 tip, no problem.” He waves it off before folding his hands on the table. So serious. “So. Now you gotta show me. Or I will never speak to you again.”

“You realize that’s in my best interest, right?” 

Kent snorts. “Not with the way we were dancing until just now, it isn’t.”

Bitty shakes his head but starts stretching in the booth, alarmed that he’s actually considering it.

“Okay,” he repeats for the third time. “You’re lucky I’m this drunk.” He lets out a rush of breath, giggling ever so slightly. “But I’m rusty, so no chirping, okay?”

“Okay,” Kent replies. He can hardly wait to see what this ex-figure skater can do.

As the songs pass, Kent’s urge to tease the smaller dancer grows exponentially. But he won’t. He has to see this. He has to.

Finally, they’re one song away from the crucial one, and Kent asks, “So… is where I’m sitting okay?”

“It’s as good as we’re gonna get,” Bitty replies, and his blush is intense as he stands and stretches out his small but lithe legs. “Just so you know, if I pull a muscle, you’re paying my hospital bills.”

“Fair,” Kent replies with a chuckle. He wants to say more, but of course, the song’s up next and he’s not going to ruin his chances to see this now.

As the chords to ‘Love Kills’ close, he counts his lucky stars that he didn’t break and start chirping immediately. Meanwhile, Bitty gets into position -- a foot next to Kent on the edge of the booth, a hand on his shoulder, after Kent’s scooted to face outward to watch the show.

And as the bubbling chords of the intro burst through the amplifiers, Bitty starts to move.

All Kent can think is that it’s mesmerizing.

_“Will you tell me once again?”_ Bitty mouths against the lyrics. _“How we’re gonna be just friends?”_ His hips sway as he continues on. _“If you’re for real and not pretend, then I guess you can hang with me.”_

_“When my patience’s wearing thin… when I’m ready to give in… Will you pick me up again?, then I guess you can hang with me.”_

At the next lines, Bitty actually sinks down to his knees on either side of the booth's bench and sways his hips across Parse's lap. It continues through the chorus, and Kent can almost feel his brain burst. Dammit, he's not supposed to think Eric's sexy. It's supposed to be funny. But if the heat crawling up his neck is anything to go by, this stopped being simply entertaining long ago.

Bitty’s hands drift down Kent’s chest during the choruses until he raises one to cup his jaw. His hips sway precariously close to Kent’s own, face practically touching Kent’s, and Kent feels his heart hammering in his chest. And suddenly, Bitty grabs his hand, standing to dip himself backward toward the floor. He stands Kent up and spins beneath Kent’s extended arm. He twirls and twirls, and does this ridiculous squat thing before standing, bending himself in half so his ass is right in Kent’s lap, and Kent thinks he’s having a heart attack. Suddenly, as the song reaches its final chorus, Bitty yanks Kent off balance and parades him out to the dance floor. Bitty trots backwards and Kent trails stumblingly behind him, until they’re suddenly on the floor again, surrounded by bodies, and Bitty’s practically glued to his front. They gyrate in place, Kent’s heart in his throat, and Bitty moves up and down his body so precisely that Kent refuses to believe Bitty hasn’t had the chance to practice this in the years since he was in high school. (He tries to ignore his own thoughts about how lucky Jack must be.) Bitty hasn’t stopped lip-syncing this entire time, and by the end of the song his face is so close to Kent’s that Kent can’t believe he hasn’t kissed him yet. So Kent takes it upon himself.

As the chords of the song glisten and fade to a close, his lips find Bitty’s; and with the same surprise as before, Bitty not only doesn’t back away, but deepens the kiss, their tongues tangling and lips mashing messily together.

Maybe it’s ironic. It’s definitely a funny coincidence. But the next song opens as ‘Call Your Girlfriend,’ and suddenly Kent regrets telling the angel-faced, freckly DJ to play the whole album. 

Yet he doesn’t regret the kiss. And as the bass beats through their bodies, Kent and Bitty still don’t separate. They don’t stop kissing. And it almost hurts, how hot the connection has grown between them. But try as he may, Kent can't ignore that he's kissing Bitty to a song about breaking up a relationship. Finally, it’s uncomfortable enough, and Kent thinks to take a step back and take a deep breath.

Bitty looks gobsmacked.

“You weren’t kidding, huh?” He murmurs.

“What?” Kent yells back.

“About the explosions,” Bitty yells, right into Parse’s ear. Parse shakes his head, fairly sure about what’s being implied. Bitty shakes his head too, and looks mildly panicked as the realization dawns on him about what’s just happened.

“I’m going to the bathroom!” Bitty shouts, and immediately bolts from the dance floor.

“I’m going to tell the DJ to play something else!” Parse yells back, though he’s certain Bitty doesn’t hear it.

Bitty hears the closing lines of the song as he splashes water on his face from the bathroom. There’s one more Robyn song, thrumming into his feet from the floor, as he tries to breathe deeply.

And suddenly the bathroom door opens again, creaking as though the next to enter is intimidated by the prospect of joining him.

Naturally, it’s Kent.

“Can you -- can you not -- not right now?” Bitty mutters, shaking slightly as he tries to wipe the moisture from his face onto his sleeve.

“Hey. It’s okay. Don’t worry, it was just -- it was just the music, yeah? We can pretend it never happened, Bits, it’s okay.”

“Don’t call me that,” Bitty retorts, the redness flushing out from his skin, pale from frustration now.

“Okay. Okay, sorry.” Kent pauses. “Is that Jack’s thing? I’ll stop. I’m sorry. I’ll stop.”

He hasn’t moved closer as the bass beats of a new song strains into something unfamiliar.

“Hey, if you want me to call you a cab I can,” Kent says softly. “It’s on me, too. I’m sorry I pressured you to do the…. To do the dare thing. Just come find me when you’re ready to go, okay? I’m sorry.” Bitty doesn’t look up from where he’s fiddling with his own hands when he hears the door creak again, this time the sound ending with a soft thud.

It’s a good fifteen minutes before he’s ready to emerge from the bathroom. When he does, something’s changed in him. His mind is made up, and he’s not quite sure how, but he also doesn't think it matters right now. He sees Kent chatting with someone else at the bar, and there’s a pang -- maybe guilt, maybe jealousy; maybe both --- and a lot of liquid courage that combine and cause him to take his next step.

He stalks straight up to Kent and rips Kent away from the guy to face him.

“Don’t be sorry,” he yells as the guy backs away. “It was me too, okay? It was me too.”

Kent looks flummoxed as Bitty drags him back to the dance floor. He takes Kent’s hands and places them back on his hips. And they start to dance again, though this time slightly distanced. Bitty doesn’t know what to feel. To his credit, neither does Kent.

The new song is something poppy and fun, but it’s over all too fast. Then, another familiar song takes over, but it’s some kind of remix.

It opens as something that sounds like a series of stomps, before a voice sets in. Then, it sounds like multiple voices that amplify and surround the pair, and suddenly Bitty's drowning in it, totally unaware that there’s anyone around them anymore.

_“Day drunk into the night, wanna keep you here, ‘cause you dry my tears, yeah -- summer lovin' and fights, How it is for us -- And it's all because --”_

By the time the chorus repeats, something's dawned on Bitty. There's something electric between him and Parse, but there's also some understanding that's dawned on him since Kent sheepishly apologized in the bathroom. Kent's apology changes something about this, even if only because Jack refused to apologize earlier. Kent is something refreshing, something different under the flashing lights and thumping bass, someone different and new, connected by shit circumstances but somehow knowing just how he wants to be treated He’s intoxicated, and not just from the alcohol. It’s also from his sudden, intense decision to take things further with this man before him, drunk on the honesty and the admittance that he could never quite wheedle out of Jack. 

And so by the time the chorus repeats, it’s Bitty who moves his face towards Kent’s. And Kent doesn’t back away.

They’re not even dancing at this point, just writhing together from where their legs connect. And their mouths. But this isn’t sweet a kiss: it’s thirsty, desperate, full of passion and lust, and Bitty knows he wants this. He knows, deep inside, beneath the drunken haze and beneath the surface feelings of fear and anger, he wants this newness and this craziness and he wants it in all the heady ways that it froths forward to the front of his mind.

The song changes again, to something bouncy and fizzy and all wrong for what both men are feeling now.

“Let’s get out of here,” Parse says, leaning into Bitty’s ear so he can hear. Bitty nods and takes Kent’s hand to head toward the exit.

 

\-----------

 

Kent’s apartment is nothing if not sleek, and… kind of empty. The furnishings look like the barest basics, just a couch, TV, coffee table, and barstools by the kitchen island. Bitty can feel the difference from Jack’s apartment, already cozy and infinitely more lived-in than Kent’s. Bitty wonders how much time Kent actually spends here, as Kent moves to the freezer and pulls out another bottle of something brown and fancy-looking, probably aged for years.

“Want another drink?” He offers, thrusting the bottle in Bitty’s direction.

“No, thanks,” Bitty replies quietly, still in awe of the cleanliness and coldness of the room they’re standing in. The central bar of the kitchen (glittering black granite, and beautiful dark cabinets, he can't help but notice) overlooks the sparsely furnished living room, where some logo screensaver bounces lazily around on the massive flat screen TV.

“Suit yourself,” Kent says, and takes a swig directly from the bottle. He caps it and puts it back in the freezer. When he moves to kiss bitty again, he tastes sharp and spicy, nothing like the fruity alcohol from back at the club. And Bitty feels freshly drunk all over again, falling into Parse’s arms like it’s the most natural thing he’s ever done.

They wander aimlessly down the hall, occasionally bumping into framed pictures on the way. By the time Bitty lands on his back on a plush comforter, he’s limbless and jellied in his drunken contentment. Parse claps, and a soft yellow fills the room from two lamps drilled into the walls above his bedside tables.

“If you want to freshen up, there’s a bathroom just through that door there,” Kent motions as he occupies himself already with removing his shirt.

“Yeah, okay,” Bitty murmurs, feelings still bouncing around nervously in his chest.

The light flickers on and illuminates a grey tiled room, complete with a huge mirror where Bitty sees himself, but not quite: it’s not quite him looking back, eyes red and pupils so dilated they practically look black. He splashes water on his face again, and removes his own shirt to see his own slim muscle glowing back at him from beneath his carefully flawless, creamy skin.

And after taking a moment to breathe, he finally realizes what he’s doing. He finally realizes this is a disaster in the making, with Jack waiting at home and with the gallon of alcohol in his stomach. He continues breathing as he replaces his own shirt, shuts off the lights, and returns to the bedroom to find Parse lying topless across his bed, tapping something into his phone.

Bitty breathes deeply once before, before admitting out loud: “I can’t do this, Kent.”

Kent peers warily back up at him, before setting the phone down and sitting up on the bed.

“Are you okay?” He raises a brow questioningly.

“Oh! Yeah! I’m… I’m fine! I’m great, even!” Bitty inhales, surprised at the lack of protest. “But… I just… I can’t do this. Not without talking to Jack first. And we’re -- I’m -- I’m so drunk. I can’t.”

“That makes sense,” Parse responds, and Bitty lets out a breath, tension melting away from his shoulders.

“Oh, god. Oh, good. Thank you,” he bows his head until his chin nearly touches his chest.

“But hey. Stay here tonight, okay?” Parse offers. “You can take the bed, I’ll take the couch, it’s fine.” 

“Oh, goodness, no, honey,” Bitty replies. “I can’t take your bed. The couch is fine. Or do you have a guest room, or something?”

“You know? I don’t. I bought this apartment when I first moved here and didn’t even imagine I’d be here this long. Go figure.”

“Okay. That’s fine. I’ll sleep on the couch. I’d rather… I’d rather not feel like I’m imposing after… after I just… you know.” Bitty peers back up at his companion through his lashes.

Kent sighs. “How about this… it’s a huge bed, right? Why don’t we just share? Nothing funny, I promise,” Kent holds his hands up.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bitty says with the beginnings of a grin. “Man of his word, and all.”

“And all,” Kent repeats, and then he moves to strip the bedclothes down far enough for Bitty to climb in. “Do you need the TV to sleep?”

“Sure,” Bitty replies, already lining himself up at the edge of the bed. “Just put on some cartoons or something.”

“I always do,” Kent says, punching the right numbers into the remote. He moves to the unoccupied side of the bed, and claps twice for the lights to turn themselves off.

“Oh, fancy,” Bitty chirps. “I bet that always impresses the guys you bring back, huh?”

Kent rolls over to face Bitty. “What, you mean Zimms doesn’t have the same thing?”

“Not in Providence, he didn’t,” Bitty admits. 

“I bet you practiced that lap dance for him all the time, huh,” he teases.

“Oh, god,” Bitty buries his face in his hands. “Please never mention that again.”

Kent stifles a chuckle.

“But, uhm, can we… not talk about Jack anymore? It’s not what --” he clears his throat “-- he’s not what I’m here for. Right now.”

Kent pauses at this. “Okay,” he finally agrees. “No more Jack.”

“Thanks,” Bitty says, pulling the covers up to his chin and drifting ever so minutely closer to Kent in his bed.

Another pause.

“So, um,” Bitty clears his throat, the whitewater river of his fraught emotions finally ebbing away into a gentle flow. “What was it like when you first got here?”

Kent pauses in thought. “Rough,” he admits. Bitty listens to Kent describing his first few weeks in Vegas, from adopting a cat Bitty has yet to see, to accidentally microwaving a fork with some takeout he ordered and promptly forgot about. Bitty giggles at the funny stories, and imagines what it must be like to live alone. He’s been alone in Jack’s apartment in the past, but never actually had to get by on his own.

And it’s to the quiet sound of Kent’s voice, the hushed consonants of his new friend’s speech, that Bitty drifts off to sleep that night.


	4. Chapter 4

In the morning, the sun and heat have already burst through the windows, and Bitty wakes up in an enormous empty bed to the smell of eggs cooking.

“Ah, fuck,” comes a voice from down the hall, and he sits up to rub the sleep out of his eyes before taking stock of where the fuck he is and what the fuck he’s doing there.

Vegas. Right. Kent Parson’s place. Right.

Ah, fuck, indeed.

He slips out of bed and yanks on his jeans, discarded haphazardly by the bed when he found it too uncomfortable to sleep in the taut, thick denim. He didn’t think Parse would care, if he even noticed.

“Nice pants,” Kent greets Bitty as he emerges into the kitchen.

“Ugh. Shut up,” Bitty yawns and covers his eyes in order not to be blinded from the way everything in the kitchen sparkles in the sunlight.

Well, there is one reason for the sparse furnishings: the windows are gigantic, and the view is stunning. 

“So this is where the enemy sleeps,” Bitty murmurs.

“It’s where you slept, too,” Parse replies as he jabs at the eggs on the stove. “Does that make you the enemy, too?”

“After last night? That seems like a generous way to describe me,” Bitty groans, climbing onto one of the barstools at the edge of the counter.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re the one who shut things down before we went too far,” Kent shrugs, adding a dollop of milk to the pan. “Christ, these are gross. I’m starting over.”

“You want me to make them?” Bitty offers.

“Promise you won’t poison me?” Kent chuckles, scraping some slightly burnt, yet somehow runny, yellow globs into the sink.

“You’ll poison yourself if you keep drinking like a freshman,” Bitty chirps.

“Nope. Too early. Save the chirps for after ten,” Parse says with a yawn. He then motions Bitty over with a ‘help yourself’ sweep of his arm, and circles the island to take his place on the other side.

“So,” Bitty says, casually digging through Kent’s industrial-size fridge (and, yes, rolling his eyes at Kent’s complete uselessness in the kitchen). “How are you not, like, horribly hungover?”

“Have you met me?” Kent quips, flopping down onto the couch. “'First in Points, First in Parties,' or whatever that headline was.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t go to Samwell. You’d be crowned “sloppiest bitch of the year” in The Swallow instead.”

“Is that why you’re not hungover?” Kent ignores the insult, and his eyes practically glow in the light as he looks over his shoulder back at Bitty. “Still drinking like a freshman?” 

“No,” Bitty shrugs. “I guess it’s just magic or something.”

“Oh, sure,” Kent replies, tearing his eyes away. “Can’t really drink like crazy around Jack, I bet.”

“I thought we agreed not to talk about Jack anymore.”

“Well, we gotta talk about him eventually,” Kent responds unhelpfully. “And _to_ him, I suppose, too.”

Bitty cringes over he tends to the new batch of eggs. “Please, not now. After ten or something.”

Parse snorts and reclines onto the sofa again. “All right. Unless he calls you first.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. My phone died before we even showed up at his place last night.”

“If you’ve got an iPhone, I’ve got a charger,” Kent offers.

“Again, not right now.” Bitty prods at the eggs. “I’m making an omelette. You want one?”

“Sure,” comes Kent’s voice from the couch. “There’s sriracha in the cabinet. And probably some veggies or whatever in the fridge.”

“How do you not know what you have in your fridge?” Bitty grumbles, ignoring the Sriracha and going for some tomatoes, cheese and herbs instead. 

“Oh, I pay Andrea, the nutritionist, to make shopping lists for me. I just eat whatever she tells me to.”

“Well, that’s one way to stick to a diet.”

“Please. My drinking is killing me. If I didn’t follow every word she told me, I’d probably black out on the ice. I bet everyone’d love that.”

“Whoa. That’s a little dark.”

“Meh. You get as good as I am at anything, and everyone you meet hates you at least a little bit.”

“What about your family and stuff?”

“‘And stuff?’”

“I don’t know. Your cat? Your cat must like having you around.”

“I haven’t even seen her yet today.”

“Stop fighting with me. You matter. And your eggs are ready.”

“That was fast.” 

“Possibly because I’m not useless in the kitchen,” Bitty chirps.

“Not ten yet. I’m ignoring you.”

“Fine, fine.” 

They eat the omelettes in silence, until Bitty feels something brush against his ankle and shrieks again. Peeking under the table, he sees a brief flash of grey and white.

“Oh!” Kent exclaims. “There she is.”

He picks up a massive grey cat from the floor and holds her up on his lap. “This is Kit. The cat I mentioned.”

“Oh, goodness,” Bitty sighs. “She just about gave me a heart attack.”

“Yes, she likes doing that to guests.” He turns his attention to the cat and starts cooing at her like at a baby. “Yes you do, don’t you? You spooky, fuzzy little ghoul.” The cat squirms, so Kent puts her back on the floor.

“Hang on, I’d better go check that she has enough food and water.” Kent and the cat disappear down a different hallway, Bitty presumes to wherever the cat’s necessities are.

A moment later, Kent returns, fiddling with his phone. “Hey,” he calls out. “You should probably power up your phone. Jack’s asking about you.”

Bitty gagged on his last forkful of eggs. “You told him I’m here?” 

“Do you guys ever actually talk to each other?” Kent asks, rolling his eyes. “And not that you asked, but he’s fine with it. He ‘just wants you safe,’ or whatever,” he mutters, finger quotes and all.

“Just wants me safe,” Bitty murmurs, leaning over the table. His eyes unfocus as he tries not to feel guilty; all he did, after all, was basically the same thing Jack did. So it should be fine, really.

So why does he feel guilty anyway?

“Okay, I guess if I can borrow your charger I’ll talk to him soon.”

 

\-------------

 

“Hi, Honey.”

“Hi.” Jack breathes a sigh of relief down the line.

“I hear you know where I am and that I’m safe.”

“Yes, but it’s better to hear it from you.”

Bitty took a sigh of his own.

“Sweetheart…. There’s something we need to talk about.”

 

\-------------

 

After relocating to Jack’s apartment and making pie and coffee appear, the two are finally settled in something close to normalcy in Jack’s new place.

“So… last night was a mess.”

“In a lot of ways, yes.”

“Do you think you can forgive me for the, uh, really bad surprise?”

“I already have,” Jack breathes. “I don’t want to lose you, and last night I felt like I may have pushed you away too hard.”

“I may have been too harsh,” Bitty admits. “But there’s, um, something else we need to talk about too."

Jack breathes deeply, bracing himself. “What’s wrong, Bits?”

Bitty squirms, not unlike the picky Maine Coon he met this morning.

“Well, I ran into Parse after I left your place. And, you know, wound up at his place.”

“Oh, God,” Jack groans. “I think I know where this is going.”

“Nothing happened!” Bitty rushes. “Nothing, well, that… that you didn’t also do last night.”

Jack takes a moment to process this. His huge eyes gape even bigger as he puts the pieces together.

“You kissed him too?”

“Well, he kissed me first.”

“That’s what I said, and you said you didn’t trust me.”

“I didn’t say that I didn’t trust you! I just asked you not to lie!”

“And I didn’t lie,” Jack says defensively.

“ _Technically_ , no, you didn’t.”

“So…. so why did you kiss him?"

“It… I don’t know, Jack. it seemed right. We were dancing, and I just… you never want to go dancing, you know? And we were cheering each other up with dancing, and… And I guess I was really drunk, too.”

“Well, I guess I’m just wondering if -- I mean -- did you mean it?”

“Did I mean what?”

“Was the kiss important to you.”

Bitty pauses, trying to process this, meaning it’s Jack’s turn to squirm. Bitty doesn’t enjoy watching his boyfriend looking uncomfortable, but he also doesn’t want to rush his answer.

“It… I guess it… kind of was. Did you mean it when you kissed him?”

“No!” Jack responds too fast. Bitty eyes him, frustrated, before Jack sighs again. “I mean, I guess I don’t know either. It was all really fast, Bits. And I missed you, and I missed holding you, and Kent is…. Uhh, he’s small, and blond, and kind of wild like you.”

“Fuck!” Bitty lets slip before immediately clapping a hand over his mouth. “I mean, gosh. I told you he and I are similar!”

“You’re not similar at all! Um, not beyond what I just said,” Jack refutes, though his face is brick red all over again.

“So… you’re saying you’re not, like, completely over him, aren’t you?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But it’s true, isn’t it?”

“Okay, now you’re reminding me of Parse. Why are you pushing this, too?”

“I’m just curious,” Bitty says defensively, folding his arms on the table and looking away.

Jack mulls this over for a second before making another realization.

“Wait.”

Bitty starts to blush before Jack even says anything else.

“You’re asking because you’re into him!”

“I-I-I-I’m -- I’m not… not into him,” Bitty stammers.

“Crisse.”

“Jack, it doesn’t -- it doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t have to mean anything! It can just stay us two. I mean, it might kind of hurt for him, but he and I didn’t even talk about it afterward, so maybe he doesn’t even care! You know?” He blurts.

Jack says nothing in response, just looking dazed by all this new information.

“You’re --” he splutters. “You -- You’re into Kent Parson. You. Bitty. My Bitty.”

“Hey! I don’t belong to anyone, thank you very much.”

“No, it’s not that, I just meant -- I never in a thousand years imagined you’d actually like him.”

“Then forget I said anything! I just wanted to apologize! Honestly! It doesn’t have to mean anything!”

“You keep saying it doesn’t have to mean anything,” Jack states, finally looking Bitty in the eyes. “Do you want it to mean something?”

Now it’s Bitty who’s speechless. 

“I don’t….” He pauses. “I don’t know that I do. I definitely want to, like, be physical but I don’t know about… other stuff.”

He pauses again.

“So… maybe? What, I mean, how would that make you feel?”

“Weird,” Jack answers immediately. “Stuff with him is over, for him and me, but… If you want to… I just want you to be happy, and if I’m not enough --”

“Oh, sweetheart!” Bitty gasps. “That’s not it at all! You’re wonderful! You’re perfect to me. I don’t need anyone else, I swear.” His breathing quickens. “I just -- I mean -- he’s different. You’re so different from each other. And if I like him at all, that’s why. Not because I need anyone else, do you understand me?”

Jack nods feverishly, still confused and struggling to handle all of this information. This is not a talk he ever expected to have with Bitty, of all people. 

Parse, maybe, back in the day. But not Bitty.

“Plus,” Bitty tries tentatively, “are you sure things are done between you two?”

Jack can’t reply right away. The truth is, everything felt genuine last night, even if he tried to convince himself it was all a joke on Kent’s side of things.

“I guess I don’t know.”

“Maybe you need to talk to him.”

“Maybe. Is that what you want?”

“I don’t know what I want, but I do think it’s what you need to do.”

“Maybe you need to talk to him, too.”

“Then I’ll do it.”

“Okay,” Jack agrees. “Then me too. We’ll both do it.”

 

\------------

 

It’s outside the gym, commiserating alone over a cigarette, that Kent’s phone starts ringing. It’s his ringtone for Jack, so he fumbles for just a moment with his only free hand before picking up.

“Fisticuffs at dawn tomorrow, I’m guessing?” He quips immediately.

“What the hell? What are you talking about?” It’s Bitty.

“Oh, hey, Bitty,” Kent says, readjusting so that his phone is between his ear and a shoulder. He snuffs out the cigarette and lifts his bag, ready to walk back to his apartment. “Just a joke. What’s going on? Everything going okay over there, or are you calling because you need someplace to crash again?”

“Everything went… surprisingly well,” Bitty replies. “Actually, I was wondering -- _we_ were wondering if you want to come over for dinner tonight. I’m cooking so it won’t be awful. You interested?”

“Are you going to poison me?”

“Kent! No one is going to poison you! Are you coming or not?” Bitty huffs.

“I don’t know,” Kent replies, shuffling the bag around on his shoulder and checking both directions before crossing the street. “I had a lot of plans to drink alone and eat takeout tonight, so I gotta check and make sure I can reschedule.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Bitty chastises. “Be here at 7:30, okay?”

“I’m only stupid for you, baby,” Kent jokes, but Bitty’s already hung up.

Back at his apartment, Kent actually struggles over what to wear. After all, it’s dinner with his ex and his ex’s boyfriend, both of whom he kissed and tried to seduce the night before, so it’s not like he’s going to give up a chance to make a better impression tonight.

“What do you think, Kit?” He asks. “Black tie or silver?”

Kit just blinks owlishly up at him in response.

“You’re right,” Kent sighs. “Red tie, of course. How could I be so silly?”

He knows he’s actually just talking to himself, but he recognizes the pit in his stomach as nerves, so if it helps, he’ll deal with the weird habit later. Plus, he can’t help but acknowledge how… strange this all is. He’s probably mostly likely walking into his death here. But hey, can’t a guy want to look handsome for his own murder?

After checking the time, twice, and checking for his wallet, phone and keys three times, and finally deciding to take off the tie, it’s time to go. He takes a deep breath, puts on his patented smirk in front of the wardrobe mirror, and heads out.

 

\----------

 

“So what are we actually going to say when he gets here?”

“Maybe just act normal and hope the conversation goes where we need it to on its own?”

“You, acting normal around Kent? C'mon, Jack,” Bitty chirps, checking the brownies he made with a toothpick. Perfect: they’re moist enough to mark the wood, but done enough not to cling to it.

“So why brownies, instead of pie?”

“Well, I don’t know what his favorite is.”

Jack rolls his eyes, but still leans down to kiss Bitty on the cheek.

“I love you, you know that?”

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he hums. “I think I’d better get changed. Pull the casserole dish out if the timer goes off before I get back, okay?”

“Okay,” Jack assures him. After Bitty’s gone, he checks the clock again: 7:20 PM. Parse should be here any minute; despite his other failings, he’s at least usually on time.

They should have a plan. They don’t have a plan, and it’s worrying at Jack’s gut (and his heart, and his mind, and, hell, the rest of him). He doesn’t know if they’ll all talk individually, or all talk together, or what, but no matter what happens, he currently finds his eyes shifting repeatedly to the clock while tremors run through his hands.

When the doorbell finally rings, It’s actually Bitty who runs to the intercom. “Who is it?” he sings merrily into the speaker. 

“Uh,” Parse responds. Apparently, that’s enough for Bitty.

“Okay, I rang you in. Apartment 310. Third floor, number 10 on the left side of the hall. Oh, you remember. What am I saying?” By the time Bitty stops talking, there’s already a knock at the door.

“Kent! Welcome!” Bitty enthuses, really dialing up the southern charm when he opens the door.

Jack stops pacing long enough to say, “Hello, Kent,” and walks over to extend a hand.

“Oh, whatever, you don’t have to shake my hand,” Kent says, taking Jack’s palm anyway. He recognizes the clamminess and mild shiver in Jack’s handshake. To think Jack would be nervous to see him!

“So!” Kent says, clapping his hands together. “Do we eat dinner first and then you murder me, or do you murder me and then eat dinner over my corpse?”

“Well, that ruined it,” Bitty muttered, turning on his heel to head back to the kitchen.

“Um, no murders,” Jack reassures him. “We both just want to… to talk.” He has to battle to keep a cringe from running up his spine and onto his face.

“You want to talk.”

“Yeah.”

“To me?”

“Who else?”

“Each other, maybe. But me?”

“I know.”

“God,” Kent sighs. “I’ve been trying to do this for years. Maybe I should have kissed your boyfriend sooner, eh?”

Jack just shoves him playfully and shows him into the apartment - for the second time, though it feels like the first this way.

“It’s a nice place,” Kent comments. “Cozy.”

“Yeah, my mom and Bitty helped me pick out the furniture.”

“So you’ve told both of them that you’re… you know?”

“More than just roommates?” Jack offered.

“Yeah, that.”

“Well, my parents were… you know how they are. They were almost too excited. And Bitty’s parents -- Suzanne had a small heart attack, but Bitty’s parents were supportive in the end.”

“Good to hear,” Kent says, and he means it.

“Okay, let’s do dinner first,” Bitty says, re-entering the main room with a warm casserole dish between two oven-mitted hands. “I didn’t know if you were allergic to anything, so I made two separate dishes. One’s shells with ricotta and my mom’s meat sauce, and the other is this deep south frittata with sausage and shrimp that I know sounds disgusting but I swear it will melt in your mouth and there is nothing like it on this earth --” 

“Anything,” Kent says, his mouth already watering. “You’ve seen what I eat, Bits. I’d devour, like, a tuna sandwich with cardboard instead of bread if that’s what you wanted to make for me.”

Bitty blushes at the compliment, and chooses not to chastise him for using Jack’s nickname.

“Okay. The shells, then, since they’re ready.”

The dinner is mind-blowing, even in its mind-blowing simplicity. Kent could die and go to heaven on this boy’s cooking. He even has Jack drinking two glasses of whatever to-die-for red wine he picked out at the fresh market, no small feat in Kent’s book. Kent offers to help clear the dishes to be a good guest, but Bitty will have none of it.

“No, no, I’ll take care of it. I don’t want anyone dropping my Moo-Maw’s china,” he says, sounding the perfect imitation of the woman in question. “Plus, I have to get dessert ready. Why don’t you boys have a chat while I get cleaned up?” The question is simple, but hangs heavy in the air.

Jack gets up and nods to Kent to move to the more comfortable living room. They sit on the plush, light blue couch together while waiting for Bitty to come out with the rest of the meal.

“So.” Kent clears his throat.

“So,” Jack replies, voice strained.

“I guess… well…. You’ve got a nice place,” Kent finishes lamely.

“You already said that.”

“I know. It was worth repeating.” Kent shifts as uncomfortably as he knows Jack feels.

Jack takes a deep breath before he begins again.

“Bitty thinks we should talk.”

“Yeah, well,” Kent shrugs. “Bitty knows best, I guess.”

“I’m sorry, Kent.”

The apology hangs still in the air.

“Sorry for what?”

“Sorry for… for everything?” Jack finishes. “That was lame. Sorry.”

“Canadians. Always sorry,” Kent says with a small smile.

“I mean it, though. I’m sorry that I never talked to you the way you wanted to talk.”

“That’s… that means a lot, Jack. Thank you.”

“And I do think we still need to talk. I just didn’t want to.”

“Clearly.”

“And I’m sorry I… you know… last night.”

“Jack, it’s fine. I was pushing too hard, and I was being a dick, and we can forget it ever happened.”

“That’s not… We need to talk about more, though.”

“What is there to say? Jack, you pushed me away for years. Years. And on the ice it’s never been anything more than hockey to you. And you’ve never called, never written, never even - I’d never even spoken to Bitty more than twice until yesterday, you know? And all he can talk about is you.”

Jack seems to ponder this for a moment. “So you didn’t talk to him on Twitter.”

Kent does let out a light chuckle out at this. “Nah, that was part of the bit. Uh, so to speak.”

“Kent, look. I know I fucked up. And I’m sorry about last night too.”

“So what do you say? Let bygones be bygones?”

“Well, that’s not quite what I wanted to say.”

“You’re being awfully eloquent, Jack.”

“Will you let me talk?” There’s a ferocity in Jack’s eyes that Kent hasn’t seen there in ages, at least outside of the rink.

“Isn’t that all you wanted to say?”

“Not…. not quite,” Jack says. He’s fishing for words, Kent can tell, so he shuts up and waits.

And waits.

“Are you sure you’re --”

“Please, Kent! I’m trying, here.”

Kent stops talking again. This time, he stays quiet.

“I’m trying to say that maybe I fucked up big time pushing you out. Keeping you out. I was jealous, and then I was angry, and then I was… I don’t know what I was. Scared. I just wanted things to be competitive between us when I first signed, because that’s all it was supposed to be when we played against each other.” He pauses for another big breath. “But maybe that’s not all that there was between us. Is. Maybe that’s not all I want there to be.”

Kent swallows audibly.

“Are you --”

“I’m saying maybe you were right last night,” Jack blurts out, all in one breath.

Kent is truly speechless at this point.

“I think maybe… maybe you were right and that we should…. Maybe we should…. Try something. At least once. Maybe. I don’t know.” 

A heavy silence falls between them.

“A-are you going to s-say anything?” Jack stutters, completely out of stamina to keep the conversation rolling himself.

“What do you want me to say?”

“What do you want to say?”

“I want to say ‘what the fuck,’ frankly.”

“Is ‘what the fuck’ a yes, or ---”

“‘What the fuck’ is ‘give me a minute,’ Jack! Jesus! This is a fucking bombshell you’re dropping here!” 

“Now you know how I felt yesterday,” Jack murmurs, peering at Kent through his lashes, and Kent can’t help a small grin at that.

Whether they’re friends or fighting, they can’t help but flirt a little, Kent decides, with a small flutter of his heart.

“I think that, maybe, ‘what the fuck’ is a ‘maybe.’”

“Maybe,” Jack breathes.

Kent jumps, suddenly. “But what about Bitty?”

“Oh, he wants to have this talk too.”

“I -- what the fuck.”

“I know, right?”

“So you guys are, like -- the whole -- the threesome thing?”

“I guess you could call it that,” Jack grumbles. “I was thinking something a little more glamorous, personally.”

“Not much glamorizing to group sex,” Kent quips.

“You would know,” Jack smiles.

“Maybe I would, maybe I wouldn’t,” Kent replies. “You’d know if you ever talked to me.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, jeez, enough with the sorry.” Kent shakes his head. “I get it. We forgive each other. Good enough?”

“Good enough for now,” Jack says, resolutely.

Timing a little too perfect, Bitty enters with brownies and ice cream for everyone.

“Did y’all have a good chat?” He asks, with just a tinge of embarrassment.

“I’d say so,” Jack replies, and scoots over for Bitty to join them. “It’s kind of your turn now.”

“My turn? Goodness,” Bitty says, and his blush intensifies.

“Well, since we’re all honesty and feelings,” Kent mutters, picking at the dessert plate in his hands. “You’re sure there’s no arsenic in here? I’m not being, like, murder-Punk’d?”

“Why would you think that?” Bitty asks, sounding scandalized.

“Because this is too good to be true, honestly,” Kent says, deciding it’s safe to dig his fork in for a bite.

“You’re sweet,” Bitty murmurs, taking the seat next to him on the couch.

“You’re pretty sweet yourself,” Kent responds. “When you’re not smacking me, that is.”

“What, so you’re not into that?”

“It’s more Jack’s thing.”

Bitty’s eyes widen. Apparently it’s new knowledge, as he looks over to Jack to verify. Jack’s face has taken on an attractive new shade of pomegranate.

“Oh. Sorry. Are you guys not that far yet?”

“We, um. You and I went pretty fast, Kent,” Jack said, stumbling over his words. “Bitty and I take things a lot.... A lot slower.”

“Very slow, apparently,” Bitty mumbles, turning his own bright shade of vermilion.

“Look, if this isn’t gonna be comfortable between you guys, maybe we shouldn’t --”

“No!” Jack and Bitty exclaim in unison. Now it’s Kent who’s happily taken aback. Enthusiasm for him was definitely the way to his heart -- and to other regions.

“Then I guess we should have a big uncomfortable talk before we take this anywhere.”

Jack grimaces, and Bitty claps his hands together in delight. “Honey, this is such fun news to me! I’m so excited to learn more about you! You were always so closed off when I asked if you wanted me to try different things with you. Now’s our chance to give it a shot, right?” Kent grins as though he’s just gotten a kitten for Christmas.

Drama, on the other hand, was the second best way into his heart.


	5. Chapter 5

After covering the barest of basics (Jack was still rather reluctant to open up about what his expectations and desires were), the boys decided to wait before planning the big event. Jack and Kent had conditioning to do, and Bitty was early for his new job at a bakery opening up downtown and trying to find ways to fill the time.

His first unsuccessful idea was trying to keep Kit company while Kent was out for lengths of time. It wasn’t that he didn’t like cats - he loved all animals - it was just that he was more of a stuffed animal person. Señor Bun didn’t have claws. Or teeth. Or big, sharp-focused eyes and twitchy ears that could hear him coming a mile away. Kit usually rushed into hiding whenever he was around, but Bitty did a lot of jumping whenever she decided to announce her presence out of the silence of the apartment with either a yowl or a ghostly sneak past a bare ankle.

He told Kent to find a more experienced cat sitter.

After that, he tried to find paint chips to style up his new place with Jack. This proved difficult - it was certainly more Lardo’s area of expertise, but she claimed without seeing the new place she’d have no idea what colors they should paint it. Plus, she added, she’d probably recommend they paint it colors like viridian and chartreuse, and Bitty didn’t have to know what those words meant to know that his pastel-blue-loving ass would think they were hideous.

He considered painting the entire apartment a deep, grey-blue he liked before a worker at the hardware store recommended that it might make him and Jack slightly depressed. She suggested a palette of creams and taupes that just about bored Bitty to death, so he left with a plastic bag full of chips and swatches and a discouraged air about him.

“Jack, I’m literally dying here,” Bitty moans into the phone one afternoon while he basks in the shade on the porch. “It’s so hot and there’s nothing to do.”

“Go inside?” Jack suggests. Bitty groans his loudest, making Jack jump slightly at the volume right next to his ear. “There’s nothing to do in there, either!” He whines. Jack pinches the bridge of his nose, trying not to be irritated at the person of whom he’s so fond the rest of the time.

“Bits, I’m sorry. I got the apartment all set up while you were still in Providence, and other than the paint there’s not much there to do. I can come home after the gym and look over them with you if you want, but I’ve still got an hour or two to go before I’m finished.”

Bitty huffs down the line. “Don’t worry, I guess. I’ll just… read one of your dumb books or something.”

“Bitty. You hate reading those. Get a movie on pay per view or something. The cable’s ready to go, you’ll find something to watch.”

“I already looked, there’s nothing good.”

“Check again?” Jack suggests gently. “Look, I gotta go. I left for a bathroom break and if I’m gone too long they’ll get worried.”

“Okay,” Bitty sighs. “I’ll see you when you get home, okay?”

“Okay,” Jack replies, sounding marginally happier to be done with the conversation. “I’ll hurry home. Maybe call Kent or something.”

“I did. He’s at the gym too. Hockey players,” Bitty rolls his eyes. To be fair, he had kept up his own gym routine, but it was nothing compared to the serious conditioning Jack and Kent were doing in their own spare time.

“Hockey players,” Jack repeats, sounding distracted. “Love you. Gotta go.”

“Love you, too,” Bitty says, listening to the beep that means Jack has hung up. With a sigh, he rises out of the deck chair and turns to go inside. What he sees surprises him: Kent, freshly showered and clean from the gym, just entering the apartment from the front door. Kent waves as Bitty lets himself in.

“Hey, sunshine,” Kent says. “I was hoping you’d be here.”

“Here I am,” Bitty mutters.

“Whoa. You’re in a mood,” Kent quips. “What’s up?”

“Just bored and Jack won’t come home.”

“You always have me.”

Bitty rolls his eyes.

“Well if that’s the way you wanna be, I can just go home and play with my adoring, beautiful cat.”

“Kent, that cat is a demon.”

Kent gasps, faux-dramatically bringing his hand to his head. “How could you say such a thing about my precious baby?”

“She only likes you and you know it.”

“Yeah, well, we were all we had when I first got here.”

Bitty rolls his eyes again, though good-naturedly this time. “Okay, okay, enough about your sordid past. What’s the plan?”

“What plan?”

“What were you planning by coming over here unannounced?”

“I dunno. I was gonna watch you bake or something.”

“You know, I’ve never said this in my life, but it’s too hot today for baking.”

“Yeah, living in the desert will do that to you.”

“So what do you suggest we do instead?”

Kent ponders for a moment. “Has Zimms got any video games?”

“Only Mario Kart.”

“God, I’m awful at Mario Kart.”

“Oh, me too, don’t worry. It’ll be a fair game.”

After several rounds where both boys lose to the computer players, even Mario Kart has grown boring.

“Ugh,” Bitty groans, dropping the controller unceremoniously onto the floor. “Now what?”

“I dunno,” Kent says. “You wanna mess around a little?”

“I still think we should wait for Jack.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

There's a short silence.

“But you know,” Kent starts, “we didn’t wait for Jack last time when we were making out.”

“Please,” Bitty says. “We were hammered. And Jack should be home soon. We can find something to do while we wait.”

“‘Please,’” Kent echoes, but it’s pleading. “Please, Bitty?” He crawls closer to Bitty from his end of the couch. “You have the cutest little sunburn and I just wanna kiss it right off of you.”

“What the hell!” Bitty exclaims. “How can I grow up in Georgia and have flawless skin my whole life, but two minutes in Nevada and I’m roasting alive?!”

“Desert,” Kent reminded him, now perching his chin on Bitty’s shoulder. “Please, Bitty? Just one little kiss?”

“It won’t be one little kiss with you,” Bitty responds in turn, though to Parse’s credit, he does turn his head to look him in the eye.

“How about this,” Kent suggests, wiggling his eyebrows. “A little kiss, and I’ll lend you some of my amazing SPF 50 moisturizer. It was $250. That should be worth lots of little kisses. You’re getting a bargain here.”

“Oh, fine!” Bitty laughs. “But just so you’ll shut up!”

He leans in for the kiss and meets Kent in a gentle embrace. True to his word, it isn’t just one little kiss. Once Kent’s got him in, Bitty starts to feel the most excitement he’s had all day, and not in a sexual sense - in a sense that this is naturally, logically what he is supposed to be doing right now. Kissing Kent feels so sensical and uncomplicated that he can’t help but want to keep going; and so, that’s what they do.

In a short order of time, Kent’s perched on top of Bitty’s lap, their hips just inches apart, and despite Bitty’s earlier whining to the contrary, he’s starting to change his mind about waiting for Jack. He rolls his hips up into Kent’s and swallows down the small gasp that emanates from the taller man’s lips, and Kent takes his cue to sit fully on Bitty’s lap then. They grind lightly and Kent brings out his teeth, nipping gently at Bitty’s lower lip, and Bitty starts to feel that warm, homey haze he always feels when he does this with Jack. It feels so right, so good, and he moves to untuck Kent’s shirt, hands roaming up and down his back.

Right when he’s about to dip his fingers into the back of Kent’s jeans, they hear the door open.

There’s a loud smack as their lips part, and Bitty leans his head back to see Jack toeing his shoes off at the door. “Jack! Honey! Get over here!”

“I was, uh,” Jack murmurs. “I’m sorry, am I interrupting --”

“No, your timing’s perfect! Come here!” Bitty reaches for him, miming grabby hands, almost elbowing Kent in the face.

“I was gonna shower,” Jack says, still red from his workout (or perhaps from the embarrassment of what he’s walked in on).

“No, no, it’s okay,” Bitty promises him, but Jack still looks unsure.

“No, I’m, uh, I’m okay. I’m gonna go do that,” Jack responds, and he walks stiffly toward the bathroom and closes the door softly.

At this point Kent has already begun climbing off Bitty’s lap, for once blushing himself.

“Ah. Uh. Sorry,” Kent says, smoothing his shirt back down to cover the erection that had started to grow in his jeans.

“No, no, don’t apologize,” Bitty replies. “He’s, um, I, we-- we were getting a little carried away, it’s my fault too.”

Kent huffs, but says nothing.

“I’m going to go check on him,” Bitty says. “There’s pie in the fridge, if you want any.”

“Actually, I think I should split. Got some errands to run before places start to close.”

“Oh. Okay,” Bitty says with a tiny breath. Why does he feel like he messed up?

“Go talk to Jack. I’ll call later, okay?” Kent seems distracted. He leans in quickly to give Bitty a kiss on the cheek, and bolts.

Bitty stands alone for a second, trying to compose himself. What just happened?

He figures he should ask Jack first.

When he reaches the bathroom, the room’s already full of steam and Jack’s washing his hair in the shower. He opens the door slowly, calling out, “Jack? Is it okay if I come in?”

He hears a grunt echo around the shower tiles as he closes the door quietly behind him.

“I’m sorry, Jack. I wanted to wait for you.”

Jack says nothing, so Bitty timidly approaches the shower stall and opens the glass door.

He steps in, still fully clothed.

“Is this all right?”

Jack nods, still staring at the floor.

“Jack. What just happened?”

He makes a noncommittal noise. “Nothing. I was just… I was just surprised.”

“Is that all?” Bitty asks softly. Jack nods. “What was surprising about it?”

“I don’t know. I guess I just… wasn’t expecting it yet?” He tilts his head up at the end, as if asking Bitty a question.

“Oh,” Bitty responds. “I guess I could have warned you.”

Jack nods, but looks away. 

Bitty begins to strip out of his wet clothes and hang them on the towel rod at the end of the shower. He grabs some soap and looks at Jack for confirmation. Jack nods and turns around, and Bitty starts to wash his back.

“It just kind of happened,” Bitty explained. “We’re both really bad at video games and he suggested it and I figured, why not? I didn’t expect you to come home… during. Not that it’s bad that you did!” He’s rambling again.

The lathers bubble and froth on Jack’s back as Bitty moves his hands lower.

“For what it’s worth, we agree that it’s going to be all three of us for the… main event.”

Jack grunts again, though this time it sounds more thoughtful.

“I’m sorry, Jack. We won’t do it again.”

Jack turns around at this, and Bitty moves his hands and the soap bar to Jack’s chest.

“That’s not…. I’m not mad, Bitty. I just reacted kind of shitty because I wasn’t expecting to see it.”

“You didn’t react shitty!” Bitty exclaims, moving closer to tug Jack into an embrace. “It was shitty of us not to wait for you!”

“What are we gonna do?” Jack says, tone joking. “All make out at the same time? All our faces mashed together? There’ll be slobber everywhere. No thanks.”

Bitty giggles. “No, of course not. We’ll take turns. I think? That’s how it works, right?”

“Bitty. I have no goddamn idea,” Jack says, bursting into chuckles of his own. “That’s why I’m so… I’m nervous, okay? I have no idea how this works.”

“We’ll figure it out together, okay? Us and Parse.”

“You --” Jack stalls, and swallows. “You can call him Kenny, if you want. He really loves when I do that.”

“Do you think, maybe,” Bitty suggests, “That he can call me Bits? I know it’s kind of your thing.”

“I didn’t really think of it as my thing,” Jack ponders. “It’s really up to you.”

“Well, I told him not to, but maybe I’ll change my mind,” Bitty says, and Jack kisses his forehead amidst the splashing water and steam.

After Jack’s thoroughly soaped and rinsed, they may or may not make out a little. They may or may not share a shower blowjob or two. It’s nobody’s business but their own.

And maybe Kenny’s, now, too.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, we earn our (E)xplicit rating.
> 
> (I've never written smut before so please bear with me ahhh)

Kent comes over again the next day, this time slightly more prepared for some kind of rejection. He and Bitty had been texting to make plans for tonight, but he worried about whether Jack was still interested. He’d kept himself awake the night before, assuming that Jack had changed his mind somehow; that he no longer wanted Kent in his bed or near his boyfriend, and simply praying that Jack at least still wanted him in his life.

He had been praying in vain.

When he arrives, Bitty’s nowhere to be seen.

“Hey,” Jack says when he opens the door. “Come in. I’ve got some beer, if you want one.”

“Thanks, yeah,” Kent says, a little guarded. “Where’s Bitty?”

“He’s out getting some groceries for dinner.”

“Oh. I thought we’d be doing dinner first.”

“We are. Well, I mean, I think we’re gonna talk first. Then dinner. Then… you know.”

“Jack, you’re so puerile you make me sick.”

“Cute, Parse. You want that beer or not?”

“Yes, please, actually,” Kent replies. He thinks he might want to be a little drunk for this, since it’s clear that what he was expecting isn’t necessarily how the evening will go down. Now he has no idea what to expect.

Jack actually pours out two before motioning Kent to sit next to him on the couch. 

“You’re drinking a lot more than I thought you were,” Kent comments, hoping it’s not too inflammatory.

“It’s still not much,” Jack responds, “but I have much better control than I did when we were kids.”

“I know you won’t believe it, but so do I,” Kent says.

“No, no,” Jack assures him. “I believe it.”

Kent takes a sip before setting the glass back on the coaster. He doesn’t want to know what Bitty would be like if he ruined the table by not using one.

“So tell me,” he says, curling up on the couch. “What’s the plan for tonight?”

“I guess just… figuring out the ropes, so to speak,” Jack replies, fiddling with his hands. He still hasn’t gotten rid of all his nervous habits, Kent notes.

“So to speak,” he repeats, jokingly.

“Well, I mean,” Jack says, “I know we’ve all -- separately -- except you and Bitty -- I think?” He questions, and Kent nods to reassure him. “Okay. But all together it’s going to be really different, don’t you think?”

“Does it have to be?” Kent replies. “I want you both, you both want me, I guess, so we’ll figure it out.”

“That’s what Bitty keeps saying,” Jack laughs breathily.

“You’re nervous.”

“Of course I’m nervous.” 

“Don’t be.”

“Like that’s ever worked before.”

“We made plenty of things work before,” Kent reminds him. “Maybe it’s all muscle memory. Maybe it’ll come back to us.”

“But what if it doesn’t?” Jack asks, looking Kent straight in the eye, and Kent’s heart hurts just a little to see it.

So Kent pulls Jack’s hands apart, takes them in his own, and kisses him square on the mouth.

And at first, it’s like fire. At first, it’s like all the years they spent apart burn up between them and fuel the flames of the hottest kiss Kent’s felt since the last time back at Samwell. Back when he tried to convince Jack to come to the Aces, to come back to him.

And here he is.

But Jack pulls away, his face aghast.

“What was that for?” he gasps.

“So you didn’t have to wait to find out,” Kent sighs back. He was just getting started.

“We have to wait for Bitty.”

“Why?” Kent demands. “He’ll be back soon and he’ll join us. It’ll be fine.”

“I want to wait for Bitty.”

“Ugh, okay,” Kent groans, and returns to his corner of the couch. He takes a big gulp of beer, and out of the corner of his eye sees Jack do the same.

“Is it really that bad kissing me?” Kent murmurs.

“That’s not what this is about, Kent.”

“Then why did you break it off?”

“I said that’s not what this is about!”

“Are you scared?”

“Of course I’m scared!”

“Why?”

Jack ruminates, breathing heavily. He fumbles to come up with an answer, and lands on “Because I love Bitty and I don’t know if I ever loved you?”

Kent isn’t angry. He isn’t outraged. He isn’t even hurt. 

He’s inspired. He knows what he wants to do, and he knows how to do it.

So he sets down his glass, and this time, when he approaches Jack, he does so slowly. He creeps quietly across the couch and sits down, right next to Jack, but doesn’t touch him yet.

“I know we’ve been through a lot, but you weren’t the only one who got hurt,” Kent states. “I’m not sure about anything, either. But I am sure I want to try again, and I am sure that Bitty is here for both of us. Are you?”

Jack just stares. He had expected Kent to yell or something. To throw something. To hit something, to kick, to lash out. And here he was, calm, quiet, reassuring. 

It throws Jack into a daze.

And this time, when Kent kisses him, it’s hot, but it’s welcome. It’s fiery, and Jack feels it too. Suddenly, Jack wants to touch him. He wants to hold him. He wants all of Kent, and he’s sure of it, though he’s not sure what changed inside him for it to be this way. Maybe he wants to fix what he thinks he broke; maybe he finally understands his own desire, that Kent helped untangle the wires that got all crossed and knotted up in his heart. He reaches out and pulls Kent in, the embrace quiet and close as he deepens the kiss. For a while, it’s just their lips and their tongues, his arms around Kent’s and Kent’s gently resting on his shoulders. It’s intimate and heavy, and in a way, soulful -- but that’s cheesy, and Jack knows Kent would hate it, so he says nothing.

Instead, he kisses him harder. Their teeth click together as Jack practically swallows Kent whole, wanting more of him, wanting all of him, and Kent gets caught up in the rush, moaning quietly as he moves to card his fingers through Jack’s hair.

“Zimms,” he says quietly when their lips part.

“Kenny,” Jack responds, and moves to kiss him again. Kent’s eyes slip shut, though Jack leaves his open to watch, something he’s never done before. There’s a bliss perched upon Kent’s eyebrows, a relaxation he’s never sure he’s seen on the man’s face, even when they were just boys messing around in the backseat of cars after practice so long ago.

Jack’s eyes slip closed, content, their kisses languid and slow at this point. Kent departs again.  
“This is what I mean, Jack. For me, this has never gone away. Maybe it has for you. But I want it again. Do you?”

Jack nods feverishly. This, he can be sure of. He knows he loves Bitty. He knows just as much that he wants Kent, in this moment - whatever Kent is willing to give him.

It’s then that Bitty returns from the store, arms full of groceries, and eyes wide at the scene on the couch before him.

“Lord,” is all he says, before dumping the goods on the counter and walking briskly toward the living room.

He squeezes himself next to the boys on the couch and asks, “What did I miss?”

And Kent responds, with his signature smirk, “Not much. But we’re going to have a good night, Bits.”

And Bitty doesn’t ask him not to use the name.

 

\-----------------

 

After a few more beers and a quick discussion about their wants, the boys have moved to the bedroom, dinner supplies forgotten in the kitchen.

As Bitty pushes Jack slowly onto his back, he does so as gently and affectionately as possible, worried that his boy might be nervous still. He does so, however, in vain; Jack’s nerves were assuaged by Kent’s second kiss, and they disappeared completely the second Bitty walked in.

Kent waits by the door as Bitty and Jack kiss slowly, gently, before Bitty looks up and motions him over. “Get over here, Kenny.”

Kent’s face tinges pink and he stalks to the bed before leaping onto it. He’s ready for this. He’s so, so ready.

He latches onto Bitty and kisses him fully, already starving for him. Bitty makes a noise of surprise, but it melts into a giggle of happiness, to Kent’s immense pride. The two get handsy while Jack watches, and to Jack’s surprise, he feels nothing but fondness for the two blond men kissing above him.

“Jack, Sweetie,” Bitty says as the two separate. “Do you want in on this?”

“Are we all gonna kiss at the same time? Is it slobber time?” Jack says, giggly in a way Kent hasn’t seen him for over a decade.

Kent decides he’s impressed.

“Not unless you get up here,” Kent chirps, grabbing Jack roughly by the arm. He kisses him harshly, and Jack gasps in surprise and pleasure at Kent’s teeth clicking against his own. He grabs the back of Bitty’s head and tries to bring him into the kiss, Bitty spluttering and laughing at the sudden goofiness of it all.

He does try to kiss the two at the same time, but it’s more like wiggling their tongues at each other before Jack dissolves into giggles and falls backward again.

This time it’s Kent who follows him down, mouthing at Jack’s jugular so Jack will roll over and kiss him again. But Jack’s eyes are on Bitty, so he pulls his boy down on top of him to kiss him first. When Bitty moves, it’s to kiss Kent, first on the eyelid, then on the cheek, and then on his lips as he removes himself from Jack’s neck.

It’s all fun and sweet, and Kent likes it, but he’s here for more.

“Okay,” he says, separating himself from a love-drunk Bitty and stroking his hair. “How do you guys usually do this?”

Jack, for all the drinking he’s been able to do since recovery, is still a lightweight, and blurts out, “Well, Bitty’s sort of a power bottom.”

Kent barks a laugh and yells, “But you’re a power bottom!”

“You are?” Bitty laughs incredulously, looking at Jack, who shrugs with a gigantic grin on his face.

“I guess I am,” Jack admits, “But you’re always so into it, I didn’t want it any other way.”

“So Kent’s a top, Jack’s a switch, and I’m a… a power bottom,” Bitty laughs. “So I guess… who’s first?” And he laughs again because it’s filthy, but he loves it. He loves it.

And Kent, who’s suddenly out of breath with excitement, exclaims “ME!” at the exact time Jack says “You’re mine!” And the two high five over Bitty’s body, shaking with laughter at the craziness of it all.

“Bitty, I guess it’s your call,” Kent says, rubbing a hand on his face, as if he can’t believe this is all real.

“Um,” Bitty says, equally incredulous. “I guess Jack first and we’ll go from there?”

“Okay,” Kent agrees. “Do you guys have condoms? I didn’t bring any.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jack says, and he leans over to the bedside table to retrieve an entire box from the bottom drawer. He also plucks out a new-looking tube of Astroglide and tosses both onto the bed.

“Wow. You guys are prepared,” Kent chides, to which Jack responds, “Bitty was an Eagle Scout. Always be prepared!” And they dissolve into giggles all over again.

“Okay, okay, okay!” Bitty says, cutting through the laughter. “If Jack gets to go first, then Kent… do you maybe want to get me ready?”

“Nothing,” Kent says, suddenly serious, “would please me more, Eric Bittle.” He holds up a scout’s honor, and this time, it’s Bitty’s turn to laugh uncontrollably.

Parse meets Bitty’s open mouth with his own, and as they kiss, Bitty hears the pop of the lid opening. He moves away from Kent’s mouth to pull his shirt off, as Kent and Jack tag-team removing his shorts and boxers. “This hardly seems fair,” Bitty mock-pouts. “Being the only one naked here.”

To compensate, Kent immediately rips his own shirt off and moves to run his hands up and down Bitty’s thighs. Jack collapses into laughter again, and Kent’s sure he hasn’t seen Jack this happy since they were kids.

“Oh my god, Bitty,” Kent says, pushing him down onto the foot of the bed. “How many squats do you do?”

“Hundreds,” Jack says. “His ass was so flat Freshman year, you wouldn’t believe it.”

“Shut up!” Bitty yelps, but his yell gives away to gentle gasps as Kent starts to kiss the insides of his thighs.

“I wanna make this real nice for you,” Kent whispers, “so make sure you tell me what you like, okay?”

“Okay,” Bitty says, almost at a whimper as Kent begins to palm his ass with one hand and tease at his hole with the other.

“Kent, Kent,” Jack says. “You can start with two fingers. It’s great, he’s amazing.”

“Shut up, Jack!” Bitty says again, reddening. “Stop giving away all my secrets!”

But Kent takes the advice, dipping in one finger experimentally before quickly doubling up. Bitty keens at the pressure, and wails lightly as a hand flies up to grapple one of Kent’s wrists.

“Kent!” He arches his back off of the bed instantly. “Yes, god, that’s amazing, please, move --” He doesn’t get to finish his sentence as Kent follows his instructions.

“Mmm, baby, yes,” he groans as he begins to melt under Kent’s ministrations. Kent moves his fingers in and out, then probes around to try to find that one specific spot.

It doesn’t take him long, and Bitty yelps his praises again as he begins to rub it.

“Add another!” Jack cheers, watching over Kent’s shoulder at this point.

“Shut up!” Bitty and Kent chime in unison. “I’ve got it!” Kent calls, before muttering, “Impatient. Learn to wait your turn, Jack.” Jack huffs out a laugh and lies back against the pillows again, already naked, stroking himself slowly and opening a condom with his teeth, moving to roll it onto a painful-looking hard on. He’s so ready for Bitty that it hurts.

Bitty, meanwhile, squirms and moans under Kent so prettily that Kent wishes he didn’t have to wait his own turn with him. After he adds a third finger, Bitty moans like he’s about to curse. Kent moves his clean hand underneath Bitty’s back, and pulls him upward to kiss him, swallowing all his pretty little moans as he continues to finger his prostate. Bitty’s shaking before Kent decides to let him go, and Bitty maneuvers himself so he’s perched backward over Jack’s cock.

“Is this okay, sweetheart?” Bitty asks. Jack nods feverishly, before adding, “Whatever you want, Bits. I want whatever you want.” So Bitty leans down to lube Jack’s cock, Kent staring intently from where he’s seated at the edge of the bed. Jack starts to groan quietly, Bitty moves to steady Jack’s cock before sinking slowly onto it, letting out another gasp at the full thickness moving into him. 

He starts slowly rocking, grinding down onto Jack, and Jack’s hands immediately fly to cover his mouth to keep any sounds from straining out.

“C’mon, Zimms,” Kent whispers, crawling up to meet him. “No fair. We want to hear you.”

Bitty nods, unable to speak, as he rises and falls again on top of Jack. “Please,” he musters. “You sound so amazing when I ride you, baby.”

Kent slowly lifts Jack’s hands from his face, making brief eye contact before lowering himself down for a kiss. He can feel Jack’s throaty moans fill his mouth, and god, it’s the sexiest sound Kent’s ever heard him make. 

Jack starts to whimper as Bitty moves faster, slowly gaining speed as he rides Jack harder. Bitty’s whining from his perch, so Kent maneuvers himself down to Jack’s legs to face Bitty. 

“Bits,” Kent says, breathlessly. “Can I kiss you too?”

“You don’t,” Bitty pants, “You don’t have to ask, Kenny.” So Kent groans lightly as he moves to cup Bitty’s moving face in his hands, keeping his head still as the rest of him rocks forward. He kisses Bitty quickly before moving his hands down the smaller man’s body, stroking his hips and thighs before moving to his cock.

“Is this okay?” Kent asks before taking Bitty up in his hand.

“You don’t have to ask,” Bitty repeats himself, red from his forehead all the way down his chest.

“Just making sure,” Kent says, kissing him again, before Bitty moans out a small “thank you.” When Kent starts to jerk him off, Bitty whines again, so high and clear it’s like a song.

Kent’s absolutely blown away when he moves to kiss Bitty again.

“Jack,” Bitty moans into his mouth. “Jack, I’m close, I’m really close, Kent, ahhh --” He chokes on his words as he starts to come, thick white liquid coating his abdomen and Kent’s hand. He grinds down hard, once, before Kent can feel him finishing, and he moves to nip at Bitty’s neck as he rides out the remainder of his orgasm.

Bitty looks spent as he climbs off of Jack and falls on to the bed. Jack takes a moment to lie there, clearing his head, before he leans up and takes off the condom and tosses it into the trash.

“God, you two,” Kent murmurs. “That was… that was really something.”

“Give me a few minutes,” Bitty says. “Then it’s your turn.”

A lump starts to form in Kent’s throat. Jack recovers almost instantly, returning to the bed and immediately taking Kent into his arms for a kiss.

It’s every bit as electric as before, and Kent can feel himself turn to jelly between them. If he had even an inkling of a feeling that he’d been forgotten, he can rest assured that Jack is every bit as ready for more as he hopes Bitty will be in a few minutes.

“Um,” Jack says, as he separates from Kent. “Do you guys mind if I … change the plan a little?”

Bitty looks a little surprised from his hazy state. “What do you mean?”

“Kenny?” Jack looks to the other boy with a question on his lips. “Will you… would you, um… will you fuck me instead?”

Bitty looks ecstatic, or at least as much as he can from his panting, supine position. Kent, meanwhile, thinks he’s going to explode.

“Yeah, Zimms. Yeah. I’d love to.”

Jack surges forward to kiss him again, and Kent accepts him gratefully, raking his nails into Jack’s back. Bitty actually cheers from where he languishes on the bed. He never would have said it out loud, afraid Jack would react badly, but this is what he’s wanted since he just discovered Jack wants to bottom, too.

He simply wants to see Jack happy. He wants to see his boyfriends together, God willing that Kent wants to be their boyfriend. And he wants to watch the two actual hockey gods who somehow both want him wanting each other, too. 

It’s a lot to want all at once, and Bitty finds he’s tired all over again as Jack unbuckles Kent’s belt and begins to ease off his pants and boxers.

From where Bitty sits, the scene is brilliant and harsh, sexy and tense all at once. Jack and Kent kiss like they’ve wanted to for decades - which isn’t far from the truth - and Bitty can almost feel the searing heat between them from where he lies, waiting for the show. 

“Bitty,” Kent addresses him. “We get a little -- rough sometimes. Are you okay to watch?”

“Of course,” Bitty says. “I’m here for whatever you have to show me.”

Kent grins at that, turning his attention back to Jack.

“Jack,” Kent whispers. “Will you lie back down?”

“Which way do you want me?” Jack questions quietly.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Kent says, with the barest hint of a laugh, so Jack simply reclines and lies on his back once again.

“Open up, baby,” Kent says calmly, reverently, as though lost in a memory and lost in the moment all at once.

Jack spreads his legs slowly, and this time Kent uses his other hand to start lubing him up. He goes slow, gentle, understanding that it’s been a while since Jack was in this position (literally), methodic as he circles Jack’s opening with care. “How do you want me?” he asks, looking for specifics on what will make Jack sing the way Kent wants to hear.

“You remember, don’t you?” Jack chides him, and Kent laughs again.

“Not really,” he admits.

“I like it fast,” Jack reminds him. “I want the main event quick… so to speak.”

“So to speak,” Kent grins, and he plunges a finger in slowly but precisely.

Jack’s eyes flutter shut at the sensation, and his breathing picks up pace as Kent begins to probe inside him. After only a moment, Jack’s already begging for more, so Kent makes extra sure he’s used enough lube before adding a second, and then a third, finger.

It seems like no time at all before Jack’s keening, practically commanding Kent to fuck him already, and the deja vu has Kent’s head spinning.

“Kenny,” Jack says, opening his eyes. “I want you now. Get over here, c’mon.”

Kent chuckles, practically snowblinded by Jack’s mouthiness and the urgency in his commands. He turns to Bitty for a moment before reconsidering Jack’s demands. “What do you think, Bitty? Is he ready yet?”

“I think he’ll die if you don’t move soon,” Bitty says, growing harder himself by the moment.  
“But I think I’ll die if you don’t kiss me first.”

So Kent leans over and plants one first on Bitty’s nose, then re-navigates to sloppily tongue at his mouth. Bitty lets out a sigh as they part, and adds, “You’d better give him one like that, too. I think he deserves it.” 

Kent, thinking himself multi-talented, reaches for a condom before leaning over Jack. His hands are slippery, so he opens the packet with his teeth and begins rolling it on before he kneels between Jack’s legs and balances above him, kissing him slow and wet before they begin.

“You sure you’re ready?” Kent asks, though by now he’s just teasing as much as he can.

“Yes, God, please,” Jack whines (actually whines, to Kent’s astonishment; what has Bitty done to him?). Kent uses his hand to help position himself at Jack’s entrance before pushing in, which he does swiftly, enough so that Jack cries out at the intrusion. Kent pants for just a moment before he begins to move, slowly at first despite Jack’s demands for quickness. Jack begins to moan beneath him, and Kent leans down again to cover his mouth with his own, slurping down all the noises with a thirst he hasn’t had with a lover in years.

Jack’s heart thrums in his chest, and he shakes beneath Kent’s ministrations. For once, he’s shaking not from anxiety, but from the overwhelming fullness between his legs; from the overwhelming feelings that this is what he’s been waiting for, this is what he’s been missing in all the years he forced Kent out of his life. He’s overcome with a need to cry, but rather than tears all that breaks free are the cries of “More, Kenny, faster, c’mon,” and the desperate whines to feel fuller, feel full to the brim of more of Kenny, Kenny, Kenny.

Suddenly, Kent feels a hand move to grasp his hair and pull, tight. He groans at the added pain, and slaps his hand onto Jack’s arm where Jack holds tightly onto him. “Zimms,” he moans, “pull tighter.” And Jack obliges, tightening his grip so that a sharp pain runs across Kent’s scalp. He shouts under the sensation, and his hips speed up accordingly to the added energy in his head.

“Bite me,” Jack commands, guiding Kent’s head down to his own face. Kent’s more than happy to oblige, angling his head so he can sink his teeth into the warm, red flesh where Jack’s jaw meets his neck. The yelp Jack lets out is so satisfying that Kent thinks he might come then and there, but Jack also loosens the grip on his hair, throwing Kent a lifeline that keeps him going strong.

“I didn’t say you could let go,” Kent complains, smacking Jack on the cheek. Jack responds by bringing both his hands into Kent’s hair and pulling, hard, on the blond locks atop the crown of his head. With a wail, this brings Kent to the edge, and he topples over Jack’s body as he topples over the edge of his orgasm. 

He keeps thrusting, however, not willing to let up until Jack joins him. 

“Jack,” he asks one last time, “What do you want, baby? What do you need?”

“Hit me,” Jack commands. “Please, Kenny, wherever you want,” so Kent slaps Jack on one cheek, pauses, and then backhands the other, the sound ringing harshly in Kent's ears. He tries to be conscious enough not to hit too him hard with Bitty in the room. He doesn’t want to scare Bitty away. A slight redness seeps into Jack's face from the pressure.

This is what does it for Jack, and he leans up as he comes and wraps his arms around Kent’s middle, bouncing shallowly and holding tight enough to suffocate him. He moans uncontrollably into Kent’s shoulder, and Kent strokes his hair as he works through his orgasm. 

“Jesus Christ, Jack,” He says, still coming down from his own high. “Jesus christ, baby, that was… that was so good.” Jack says nothing, still panting and clinging to Kent, his come growing tacky between them.

They hold each other for another fraction of a moment, before Jack lets go and lets himself fall back onto the bed.

“Kenny,” is all he says.

Kent recovers first and grabs a towel to wipe them both off with, before he glances over to Bitty to see how Bitty’s experience has ended.

Bitty’s wiping himself off with a wash cloth as well, but his eyes are as wide as hubcaps as he glances back and forth between Kent and Jack.

“Good Lord, you two,” He whispers, reverently. “If that’s what you’re like together all the time, I think I’m the one who’s gonna die from watching.”

“Is that a good thing?” Kent says with an edge of worry.

By way of responding, Bitty just crawls across the bed and plants a light kiss against Kent’s mouth. He lingers there for a moment, and when they separate, Kent’s the most dumbstruck he’s been for the whole evening.

“Thank you,” Bitty says. “Thank you both.” He gazes down at Jack, where Jack’s still recovering, breathing heavily.

“Crisse,” Jack swears. “Yeah. Yeah, me too.” He waves a hand lazily in the air. 

Bitty and Kent both giggle, assuming that’s the most they’ll get out of him for a while.

When Jack finally rises, he suggests a shower. The three of them are a tight squeeze, but still manage to get clean under the steam before Bitty suggests he finally make them something to eat.

 

The starving boys agree they all chose the right order, but are more than ready to do something else with their mouths for a while.

 

\-------------

 

Later, after the boys have all gone to bed, Bitty stirs from an odd dream about Kent coaching his figure skating.

In the dark, Bitty feels a shift as a body rises and starts to dress. He’s sleepy and doesn’t quite process it right away; is it Kent? Where would Kent even be going, this late?

“Kent? What are you doing?”

“Oh, ah. I’m going to head back home now. You go back to sleep.”

“What? No. Get back here,” he grumbles, rubbing his eyes to adjust to the shadowy figure moving in the darkness.

“I gotta get home to Kit,” Kent insists, though he sounds reluctant.

“She’ll be fine for one night, Kenny,” Bitty says through a thick cover of sleep. “Come back.”

“You hate my cat,” he accuses.

“I really like you, though,” Bitty insists. “Please. Come back to bed.”

Kent finally desists, and shucks his pants off before climbing back under the covers and curling up against Bitty’s back. 

Bitty turns toward him. “Kiss,” he demands.

Kent kisses his sleepy mouth, ducking his tongue in for a fraction of a second before Bitty moves and tucks his head beneath Kent’s chin. “‘Night,” he says quietly, before his breath stills and Kent knows he’s already asleep again.

When Bitty rises first in the morning, he’s still right there, curled up against Kent’s chest. Basking in the morning light, it’s the first time he notices that Kent’s covered in a dusting of freckles.


	7. Chapter 7

The next few days go basically the same way as the first.

Bitty gathers food to cook for dinner, they all have their way with one another, they eat, they black out together in Jack’s enormous bed.

But the honeymoon phase is, of course, not meant to last. It lasts for an exceptionally short time, in fact.

Bitty isn’t actually aware of what happened until hours later. When he comes home that night, he finds Parse smoking out on the balcony, fully prepared to chirp him until he notices that his eyes are red.

“What happened, sweetheart?” he asks quietly. “Is everything okay?”

“I fucked up.”

“It can’t be that bad --” Bitty begins, but Kent interrupts him.

“No. It was pretty bad.”

Kent had been waiting for Jack to come home from the gym, pacing around the apartment after Bitty had let him in earlier. It was Bitty’s first real day of work, so neither Jack nor Kent expected to see him until late. 

“Jack,” Kent breathes earlier that day when Jack walks in the door.

“What’s up, Kenny?” Jack asks nonchalantly. He drops his keys on the table by the door before he looks up and sees the nervousness flit across Kent’s features. “What’s wrong?”

“I kind of… we need to talk about something.”

“Okay,” Jack says, trying not to panic just from this small admission.

“It’s about the guys,” Kent starts.

Most of the team was still out of town for break at this point. However, with the end of the offseason nearing a close, Kent’s teammates and Jack’s future teammates were beginning to come back home to prepare for camp and start conditioning.

“What about them?” Jack asks. He wonders briefly if there’s something weird about the team that he needs to know before meeting them.

“I kind of…. I kind of lied to them about something.”

Jack’s really trying not to panic at that second admission. “What does that have to do with me?”

Kent takes a moment to clear his throat and center himself. “I lied about… well. I lied about you.”

Jack stills, more than uncomfortable now. “Me? Did they ask you something about me?”

“Not really - I mean yes - I mean - Kind of?” Kent shuffles nervously on his feet, a habit he’s picked up from Bitty over their days together. Jack’s too distracted to think about it just now.

“Parse. You’re not making any sense.”

“Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m trying.”

“I… I told them you and I kept in touch all these years.”

“You… you did?” the blood fades from Jack’s face, and he grows impossibly paler by the millisecond. “Why?”

“They kept asking about you,” Kent says, wringing his hands. “All those years ago, they asked about skating with you in Juniors, and then when you were in college, and when the trades were happening, and now they all know you’re coming and they wouldn’t stop asking about you,” he rambles, going off beyond his own control. “And I didn’t know how to say that you almost died, that I didn’t know if you were okay, that I didn’t know what you were up to or what you were thinking or any of that stuff, so I just made a bunch of shit up, okay? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lie but I lied once and then they kept asking and --”

“Kent! They asked about the Q? What did you say?” Jack interrupts, louder than he means to.

“I-- I-I don’t know! Just normal stuff! Not stuff about… about… you know! I said stuff like you were fine and working stuff off and getting your life on track after the draft, I guess,” Kent says, voice rising unintentionally. “I didn’t say anything, like, wrong or off-base, I just guessed!”

“Why would you - why didn’t you --” Jack splutters. “You should have just told them we weren’t talking!”

“Well, I didn’t! I didn’t know what to do! I was eighteen and then it just -- snowballed!” Kent thrusts a hand into his hair, raking his fingers through it so fast it starts to stand on end.

“You lied about me to them for years!”

“Yeah! I did! I’m sorry! I don’t know what you want from me!”

Jack’s pacing now, his hands balled into fists. “And you can’t tell me what you told them?”

“Not all of it! I don’t remember! It’s been, like, a decade!” 

“Jesus Christ, Kent,” Jack spits, stilling and bringing his hands up to his slowly reddening face. 

“How was I supposed to know you’d be playing with them eventually? First I thought you died, then I thought you’d retire, then I thought you were -- I don’t know! You lived in a goddamn frat house!”

“You came to the frat house to ask me to be on the team!”

“It was a stupid idea!”

“Yeah,” Jack agrees frostily. “Yeah, it was a stupid idea.”

“But you’re here now,” Kent counters, fuming. “And I told you the truth, so can we move beyond this?”

“No,” Jack snaps. “No, we can’t just move on from this. God, Kent. What is wrong with you?”

“Well -- I had to tell them something,” Kent sighs aggravatedly. “They wanted you on the goddamn team back then, too, okay?”

“Then what did you tell them about why I said no?”

Kent clamps his mouth shut and looks away. He kicks at the air, almost impatient-seeming; Jack can tell he’s stalling, and he’s not impressed.

“Kent. What did you tell them --”

“I told them you got pissed because I accidentally hit on your girl.”

“My _girl_?!”

“I didn’t know what to do! I panicked! You of all people --”

“Don't you dare--” Jack takes a step closer, getting right into Kent’s space.

“Okay, fine! What would you have done, huh? What would you do in my position, Jack? Since you’re clearly so much better than I am at this?” Kent yells up at him.

“I wouldn’t have told them a complete pack of lies! Were any of the things you said even true? How much do they know about us? Did you tell them any of the things we -- w-w-we did--”

“Of course not. I’m not a complete idiot.”

“You’re doing a perfect impression of one, then!” Jack’s face is inches away from Kent’s.

“You should be thanking me, you know! If they knew the truth about any of that -- any of what happened back then -- they’d -- they’ll -- They’re going to accept you on the team because of me, Jack! They’re going to like you because I made you sound like someone they’d want to play with!”

“Fuck you, Kent,” Jack snaps.

“Shut the fuck up, Jack,” Kent snaps back.

“Fuck you!”

“Fucking do it, then!”

And all at once, they collide. Jack crashes into Kent like lightning hitting the ground: the force of all of their anger bursting to the surface, teeth gnashing, tongues tangling, and they stumble into one another before storming backwards toward the bedroom.

“You fucking liar,” Jack gasps when he comes up for air.

“Only ‘cause you never told me the truth,” Kent snaps back, and Jack bites down so hard on his jugular that Kent’s vision goes white. He chokes on a breath as he moves a hand into Jack’s hair and pulls, hard. Jack moans and continues biting downward, leaving teeth marks peppered along Kent’s neck and shoulder.

Kent saves the rest for himself, letting Bitty fill in the gaps.

“Oh my God,” Bitty mutters to himself.

“Yeah,” Kent says, lowering his head.

“What… did he say anything else?”

“After? He just told me to write down as much as I could remember and left,” Kent murmurs. “I guess I gotta try and remember it all before he comes back.”

“He’s still not back?”

“No.”

“Do you have any idea where he went?”

“None,” Kent replies hollowly.

Bitty takes a deep breath before he puts an arm around Kent’s lower back.

“Finish up and come inside, okay? I’m making a pie.”

“Okay,” Kent responds. He takes one last drag off his cigarette and flicks it off of the balcony, not knowing or caring where it lands.

Bitty wrinkles his nose. “I wish you’d quit.”

“I will,” Kent assures him. “I always do for the season.”

“If you go brush your teeth we can make out while the pie bakes.”

Kent smirks at that, and does as he’s told.

When he enters the kitchen, Bitty’s already laid out the ingredients for pie and kneads the dough for the crust. “All brushed,” he says, snarling and showing his gleaming teeth to prove it.

“Good,” Bitty says. “I don’t want to make out with an ash tray.”

“I’m not an ashtray,” Kent says, faux-hurt.

“But you taste like one, sometimes,” Bitty chirps back.

“I thought you were supposed to be making me feel better,” Kent whines, stepping into Bitty’s space for a hug.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Bitty replies, wrapping his arms around Kent’s waist. Kent rests his head on top of Bitty’s and sways gently into the hug.

“Let me just get the pie in the oven,” Bitty says, taking a step back. “Then I’ll give you a treat, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Parse responds. “I know where I rank. Beneath baked goods.”

“Stop,” Bitty says with a giggle. “That’s enough out of you. Do you want pie or not?”

“I guess I do,” Parse replies with a smirk. But he comes to stand behind Bitty, wrapping his arms around him from behind, and hums while Bitty finishes preparing the pie.

“I’m sorry about Jack,” Bitty finally says once he’s sliding the pie into the oven.

“You don’t have to apologize for him.”

“I feel like I do.”

“I’m the one who fucked up, okay? I’ll make it up to him somehow.”

“I’m kind of surprised he got so mad,” Bitty says, laying a hand on his face. “It’s not like he doesn’t fib sometimes when he wants to.”

“It’s just the quantity of lying, I think,” Kent replies, taking Bitty’s hand and enveloping it in his own. “And the weirdness of it. I spent a lot of years acting like I still knew him when I obviously didn’t. I’d be mad, too, I think.”

“You think?” Bitty echoes, still unsure. “I wish he would be more understanding.”

“It’s not his strong suit,” Parse argues gently. “He’ll feel better once he meets them and it all blows over.”

“I hope so,” Bitty agrees. “Plus, that sex sounds… am I allowed to say this?”

“Say what you want,” Parse encourages him.

“Scary,” Bitty replies.

“Oh, it was so good though,” Kent disagrees. “I wish he’d fuck me like that all the time.”

“Does that mean I get to fuck you next?” Bitty guesses. “I want a turn. But I’m not hitting anyone.”

“Whatever you want, Bits,” Kent replies with a grin. 

Bitty turns around and leans up onto his toes to kiss him, and Kent presses back until Bitty’s back hits the countertop. He pushes his tongue into Bitty’s mouth insistently, and Bitty yields; the kissing is one of the best parts, as far as he’s concerned.

But he doesn’t complain when Kent drops to his knees and starts to mouth at the front of his jeans.

Until:

“God, Kenny,” he pants. “In the kitchen?”

“If you want to get up and move, be my guest,” Kent replies lazily, getting to work on Bitty’s button fly.

Bitty sighs, his cock already hardening at the attention. “Well, I guess we can cross ‘christening the kitchen’ off the to-do list.”

“Baby,” Kent chirps, “you’re all that’s on my to-do list.”

Bitty has to restrain himself from swatting at him.

 

\------------

 

“You sure you don’t want to stay for some pie?”

“Nah, I’d better get going before Zimms -- Jack -- comes back.”

“I’ll talk to him, if you want.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s too late, he’s meeting a bunch of the guys tomorrow.”

“I’m still going to try,” Bitty insists.

“Suit yourself. I’d better get back to Kit. She’s probably climbing the walls.”

Bitty sends him off with one last kiss before turning back to the empty apartment.

He busies himself by tidying, first putting away the containers and ingredients leftover from the pie. Then, he scrubs the kitchen so it’s gleaming. He sorts through the paint chips, laying forgotten in a plastic bag on the counter.

He hears the door open and close again, “Hey, Jack,” he calls, not looking up from the paint chips. He can’t decide what he’s feeling at the moment - not anger, certainly, but maybe kind of frustrated that Kent and Jack had fought. Like most times of indecision, he decides to ignore it until he knows what Jack’s thinking.

“Hey,” Jack says, entering the kitchen.

“Where were you?” Bitty tries, as nonchalant as he can.

“That little art house cinema was showing that World War II series Lardo and I saw a few years ago. I thought I’d drop in and refresh my memory,” Jack shrugs.

“Ah,” Bitty responds flatly.

“Everything okay?” Jack asks.

“Well, I heard about your fight earlier.”

Jack pauses to clear his throat. “Oh. That.”

“Is there anything you need to talk about?” Bitty implores.

“No. I just -- I reacted badly, I guess,” Jack admits, rubbing his palm across the back of his neck. “But I got… freaked out, you know? What was I supposed to think, meeting a bunch of strangers who know everything about me, but knowing none of it’s true?”

“I guess that would be intimidating,” Bitty replies, keeping his voice level. “I’d be upset, too. But I think you really scared Kent.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Jack sighs. “It was weird.”

“How was the sex?” Bitty chirps, trying to bring a lighter edge to the conversation.

“Oh my god,” Jack mutters. “He told you about that, too?”

“Of course he did,” Bitty says with a smile. “Sounds like you enjoyed it.”

“I did,” Jack admits, his face reddening deeper by the second.

“Do you think you two will talk before tomorrow?”

“I guess we’d better,” Jack says. “I’ll call him in a few minutes. What kind of pie is that?”

“Your favorite,” Bitty says.

“You’re the best, Bits.”

“I know,” Bitty smiles. “It’ll be ready in a few minutes. Why don’t you call Kent while we wait?”

Jack groans, but does as he’s told. He wanders off to the bedroom, sorting through his contact list on his phone.

Bitty hears his voice but not his words as he occupies himself with the paint chips in the kitchen.

He chalks it up as a success when he doesn’t hear Jack’s voice raise. It’s the little things, he supposes.

“We’re getting together to talk tomorrow,” Jack says as he reenters the kitchen.

“That’s good,” Bitty muses, walking forward to meet him.

“Is the pie ready yet?”

“Almost.”

“Let’s save it for tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Kent’s going to need a lot of it by the time I’m done with him.”

“Dirty,” Bitty chirps, patting a hand onto Jack’s chest. Jack’s arms encircle him completely, his hands resting at Bitty’s waist.

“You know what I mean,” Jack says, with a joking roll of his eyes.

“Go ahead and get ready for bed,” Bitty suggests. “It’ll just be a few more minutes, and then I’ll put the pie up to cool.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Jack plants a kiss on Bitty’s forehead and turns to leave.

Bitty watches him go from where he stands, still not entirely sure how he feels about everything that’s happened.


	8. Chapter 8

“All I said about Juniors was that we were best friends,” Kent said, “And that you left the draft to recover from the pressure. That’s it.”

“Okay. That’s not so bad,” Jack ponders, writing it down in a notebook in front of him.

“And that you were coaching,” Kent adds after a thought.

“Well, that’s true, at least. How did you know?”

“I asked Bob,” Kent says, flushing lightly at the admission that he had kept in touch with Jack’s parents. “I called for you, but since you didn’t want to talk, well. You know.”

“I know,” Jack says quietly, still scribbling.

“And I said you went to Yale, although that’s obviously not true, and they figured it out themselves,” Kent adds.

“You get chirped for that?”

“Mercilessly,” Kent smiles.

“Good,” Jack rolls his eyes. “Yale,” he mutters balefully.

“I just knew it was some Ivy thing.”

“Samwell’s not an Ivy.”

“Close enough,” Kent shrugs. “And I don’t remember what I said you were studying, so you’ll probably have to correct them.”

Jack just rolls his eyes again. “God, Parse, at least be consistent if you’re going to talk about me behind my back.”

“I would’ve talked to you to your face if you’d let me!” Kent protests playfully.

“I know, I know! I get it!” Jack protests. He takes a break from note taking and rises to go to the kitchen.

“You want some more pie?” He asks, already occupied with removing it from the fridge.

“God, yes, please,” Kent responds, moving to stretch upward.

“We’re going to be working this off for weeks, aren’t we,” Jack wonders aloud.

“Probably,” Kent surmises. “It’s worth it, to be honest. Where is Bitty, anyway?”

“Work,” Jack says simply. “I have no idea when he’ll be home.”

“How much do they have him doing over there?”

“I have no idea,” Jack repeats.

“You two really need to talk more,” Kent says as Jack hands him another plate of pie.

“Do you really think you get to criticize my relationship?” Jack asks.

“I’m just saying,” Kent says defensively, digging a fork into the crackly crust.

“Well, next time, don’t,” Jack says with a huff.

Kent shrugs, but does look a little put out.

“So that’s everything?” Jack asks.

“Everything I remember,” Kent replies through a mouthful of food.

“I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” Jack sighs.

Kent stands to clap him on the back. “They’re good guys,” he reassures; “They’ll have your back in no time.”

Jack still shakes his head, not sure whether to believe him or not.

 

_____________

 

Practice with the Aces goes way better than Jack could have anticipated.

He meets most of the lineup, but only catches a few names here and there that he knows he can remember right away.

A particularly friendly D-man seems to be trying his best to welcome Jack to the team.

“So Harvard, huh?” He asks genially.

“Actually, it was this small college in Massachusetts called Samwell.”

“Oh, right, duh,” the guy says with a smile. “Parser talked about you a lot, it was hard to keep up.”

“He did, eh?” Jack asks, leaning in to grab more water from the cooler.

“Yeah, all he ever talks about. He was so pissed when he fucked up getting you on the team, man!”

“ _You_ were pissed when he fucked up!” Smitty cackles, sliding by on his skates. He was one of the few Jack was sure he’d remember right away - there was a kid in the Q called Smitty.

“We all were!” the huge D-man roars, chucking a glove after him.

“So you studied Math, right?” He says, turning back to Jack.

“History, actually,” Jack chuckles.

“God, Harper, get something right!” Kent chirps, skating up to meet them.

“It’s not my fault you didn’t get your facts straight!”

“He’s the wrong guy if you want it straight,” Smitty calls from across the ice, and Kent wrinkles his nose.

Jack laughs at his expense, and settles in his skin, realizing Kent was right all along that they’re lucky to have a good set of guys.

Later that evening, Kent shows up at Jack’s, toting a large, colorful paper bag with him.

“What’s this?” Jack asks, eyeing the bag.

“Welcome gift from the team!” Kent quips, eyes sparkling.

“You mean a welcome gift from you?” Jack asks as Kent barges past him into the apartment.

“Well, the team chipped in a little,” Kent says, setting the bag on the table and digging around its contents. He pulls out a huge, bright pink box with a glittering yellow ribbon on. “Welcome to Vegas!” He cheers.

Jack stares at the box, wondering what the hell could be inside such a garish package. Kent answers his question quickly, unwrapping it and revealing a collection of rich-smelling, dusty-looking orbs and colorful swirls.

“It’s from Lush,” Kent clarifies. “Pick your poison.”

“What am I picking, exactly?” Jack queries, perusing the box.

“Bath bombs,” Kent clarifies again. “We’re gonna relax with a nice bath and break in that huge jacuzzi of yours.”

Jack still has no idea exactly what he’s doing, but picks an orange and yellow swirl out of the candy-like packaging.

“Excellent, this one has bubbles,” Kent says, and his expression dazzles Jack, so he knows he’s in for a treat.

Kent retreats to the bathroom as Jack busies himself grabbing an extra towel or two from the linen closet.

“Kent, I still have no idea what you’re --” He begins, stalking into the bathroom. He finds Kent sitting on the edge of the tub, holding half of the swirled brick under the water, the tub slowly filling up with a mass of thick bubbles.

“What --”

“I told you,” Kent says. “Lush baths are the best. Get ready for the nicest skin you’ve ever had.”

“Are we even both going to fit in there?”

“We’ll figure it out!” Kent says, always the voice of optimism.

After the tub is full of bright, golden water and threatening to overflow with foam, Kent strips right there and lowers himself into the tub.

“C’mon, Jack, before the water gets cold. Sit behind me.” 

Jack follows Kent’s instructions, and soon he’s surrounded by warm water and bubbles that seem to refuse to pop.

“This is… lavish, even for you,” Jack comments.

“It’s a present, like I said,” Kent says, blowing a burst of bubbles off the top of a mound. “As a thank you, for putting effort in with the team.”

“They seem like good guys,” Jack comments. He encircles Kent with his arms, leaning forward. 

“Well, this isn’t my home for nothing,” Kent says, falling back into his touch.

“I’m glad you found one here,” Jack adds.

“It wasn’t easy, at first,” Kent sighs. “But a few years and a few trades and we’ve got a great team now.” He pauses. “Even better with you on it."

“I hope so,” Jack purrs into Kent’s ear. Kent cackles, and, not one for feelingsy moments, grabs a handful of bubbles and pushes them into Jack’s face. Jack laughs and retaliates by pushing Kent into the water, and Kent rises, spluttering, with a mound of bubbles perched atop his golden cowlicks. 

“Not fair!” He chimes. “This is supposed to be a nice time!” 

“Oh, I’m having a great time,” Jack replies, grabbing his own handful of bubbles and blowing them right onto Kent’s nose. Kent laughs again, a bubbly sound that matches the soft atmosphere around them.

Neither of them heard the front door unlock and Bitty call out to them. They’re surprised, then, when Bitty appears in the open doorway of the bathroom to see them messing around in the tub.

“Good Lord, try not to make a mess,” he comments with a grin. He leans against the doorframe, watching the two playing with a bunch of bubbles like a couple of overexcited kids. “What did I miss?”

“This is Jack’s relaxation time,” Kent says, dripping. 

“Doesn’t look too relaxing to me,” Bitty chortles.

“Wanna come join us?” Kent asks, leaning against the edge of the tub as Jack mounds even more bubbles on his hair and shoulders.

“Nah, I think I’m going to go make some brownies.”

“Oh, God, yes,” Kent purrs, practically melting where he leans. “Can you put the peanut butter chips in again?”

“If I have any more,” Bitty says, smiling. Of course he has more, but he doesn’t tell Kent that he secretly keeps them on hand at all times, after learning he loves pie but really prefers peanut butter brownies.

“Our nutritionists are going to kill you,” Jack comments. 

“Stop ruining all the fun,” Kent says, splashing him with the bathwater.

Jack splashes him back, and they dissolve into giggles and chuckles as Bitty rolls his eyes and exits the bathroom.

Half an hour later, pruney and soaked to the bone, the boys make their way back to the kitchen, Kent rubbing a towel into his hair. “Brownies ready yet?”

“Soon,” Bitty says, coming over to wrap his arms around Kent’s shoulders. “And you’re in luck, they’re the peanut butter kind.”

“You’re amazing, Kent says, ducking to give Bitty a quick peck on the mouth.

“I take it you worked everything out after your fight?” He addresses the both of them.

“What fight?” Kent shrugs.

“Oh, that,” Jack rolls his eyes. “It was nothing.”

“It’s in the past,” Kent nods. “We’re good now.”

“O...okay,” Bitty intones. “As long as everything’s okay.”

“Peachy keen,” Kent reassures him, reaching out to mess with his hair.

“Stop!” Bitty whines. “It took me forever to get it in order this morning.”

“Well, you can worry about it again tomorrow,” Kent chuckles, taking a seat at the table.

Bitty serves them brownies with Jack’s favorite caramel swirl ice cream, and everything’s okay.

 

_______________

 

“Bitty, hey,” says Beck, Bitty’s boss at the bakery, snapping her fingers in front of him. “No time for daydreaming. Those cupcakes won’t frost themselves.”

Bitty shakes his head, willing himself awake as his daydream dissolves into mist and floats away. “Sorry,” he replies, willing his eyes to focus. “Just… been a weird week.”

“Let me guess,” she says, with an eyeroll. “Boy troubles?”

“How did you know?”

“They always are, with someone as cute as you.”

He blushes lightly at the compliment, waving it off as he examines the few finished cupcakes. “It’s just… a couple of my, uh, my friends… had this huge fight, and now they’re pretending like it didn’t happen at all.”

“Denial, huh?”

“I think so,” Bitty replies pensively. “I don’t really know, actually. It’s like, one day they’re not speaking, the next day they’re best friends again.”

“Sounds like they need to have a chat.” 

“That’s what I thought, but either they’ve forgotten about it or just swept it under the rug.”

Beck sighs. “Hmm.” Her eyes gaze off, as if lost in thought. “Well, it sounds like it’s their problem. Not much you can do, especially now that they reconciled, or whatever.”

“I suppose,” Bitty hums in response.

“Best to stop worrying about it and get my cupcakes finished,” she says with a wink. “But if you need any help, let me know. I’m working on wedding cake number 400 if you need me.”

“Thanks,” Bitty says, and he means it. She’s probably the last person he’d go to for help, being so new in her bakery, but he’s grateful for the sentiment.

“Cupcakes!” She reminds him, as she turns on her heel to leave.

Bitty grunts, but picks up the tube of frosting and gets to work anyway.

 

________________

 

Practices with the Aces continue to be good, albeit weird. Jack was correct in assuming that it would be odd to talk to strangers about his past; and it was even more strange to have to correct almost every detail.

Perhaps even weirder was the details they got right.

“So how’s Shitty doing?” Sparksy asks one day as Jack towels off from a shower.

“How do you know Shitty?” Jack asked, flummoxed.

“Oh, Kent told us about him. He seemed like a chill dude.”

“He’s doing an internship right now,” Jack said. “It’s weird, I guess, with a personality like his.”

“He’s gotta tone down the frat-boy in his soul, huh,” he responded. “No more Natty Light on weeknights!”

“Yeah,” Jack ponders. “I guess not.” He hadn’t actually spoken to Shitty in a few weeks at that point, and had no idea how he was getting on in the high-profile Cambridge law office where he was, as far as Jack knew, getting coffee and making copies.

He's reminded immediately how much he misses him, and resolves to call him later.

 

“See? Not such a disaster after all,” Kent chides, while they’re getting packed up after practice.

“It’s still weird,” Jack responds. Kent just reaches over and musses his hair.

“Hey, maybe someday you’ll even like them enough to tell them how much you like me,” he jokes.

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Jack grunts, tossing a water bottle into his bag.

Kent tries, and fails spectacularly, not to look hurt.

“What?” Jack asks. “It’s not like we can just come out because they’re ‘nice guys.’”

“They’re my team,” Kent remarks defensively. “I thought we’d be able to tell them eventually.”

“Sure, assuming you don’t lose interest in me after the fun wears off,” Jack scoffs.

Kent bristles. “Dude. What’s your problem?”

“My problem? Who are you to assume what’s going to be fine that far in the future?”

“And who are you,” Kent counters, “to assume we don’t have a future?”

“I’m just playing it by ear, is all,” Jack replies. “It’s not like you don’t get bored and chase whatever exciting thing comes up next.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” Kent snaps. “I’m nothing if not dedicated.”

“Sure, when it suits you,” Jack counters coolly.

Kent balks. It’s like Jack doesn’t even know him.

“I’ve never given up something when it’s important to me,” Kent says. “Not even you, until you made it clear you wanted me gone.”

“Persistence and dedication aren’t the same thing,” Jack mutters.

“Huh. Okay,” Kent breathes. “If that’s the way you feel about it, you can walk home.”

He turns tail and storms out of the dressing room, leaving Jack behind to mull over how exactly that had just turned to shit so fast.

Jack angrily punches at his phone, first to Bitty, asking him to call when he gets a chance; secondly, to call an Uber home.

 

\---------------

 

“What in the world did you do that for?!” Bitty exclaims when Jack explains what happens.

“I don’t know! He talked about coming out like it’d be the easiest thing in the world and I just -- I just got freaked out,” Jack rambles, running a hand through his hair.

“Why do you keep doing this? It’s like you want to fight him!”

“It’s not my fault he keeps doing such…. Frustrating things!”

“Sweetheart, you can’t ask him to stay closeted forever,” Bitty says, trying to stay calm.

“No, but does he have to drag me into it? We’re not even dating.” Jack crosses his arms over his chest, as if to emphasize his point.

Bitty sighs and drags a hand down his face. “No, I guess you’re right,” he agrees. “But you should be talking to him about this, not me.”

“I have nothing to say to him right now.”

“Jack, that attitude isn’t going to solve anything.”

“Neither is Parse insisting we act like some married couple in public!”

“That’s not even what he’s asking you to do!” Bitty counters, exasperated.

“He might as well have,” Jack responds, sullen.

“You’re being impossible,” Bitty says, swatting in Jack’s direction. “I’m not getting you out of this. You have to talk to him yourself.”

“He’s the one who should be apologizing to me.”

“The way I see it, you both have a lot of things to apologize to each other for,” Bitty snaps. He lets a short breath out through his nose. “Look, I have to get back to work. I only get 45 minutes for lunch, and 30 of them are up.”

“Okay, okay,” Jack says defensively. “I’ll think about it.”

“Think hard,” Bitty commands. “I don’t want this to end just because you got freaked out about a joke.”

“He wasn’t joking!”

“Well he sure wasn’t asking you to marry him, either!” Bitty grumbles. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Yeah,” Jack huffs. Then he lightens his tone to add, “I hope work isn’t too tough for you.”

“You and me both,” Bitty agrees. “And Jack?”

“Yeah?”

“Really, please, do think about this. Things were going so well. I would hate for this to come between you for real, you know?”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” Jack replies, but Bitty’s already out the door and gone.

 

\-----------

 

Jack clears his throat as he steps up to the doors of Kent’s apartment building. He notices the doorman looking at him warily; he waves before putting on his most welcoming face, and calls out, “I’m here for Kent Parson. He should be in 17A?”

“Right. I’ll call up and see if he’s available,” the man responds politely. Jack tries not to fumble too much with his hands while he waits.

“Go on up,” the doorman tells him after a quick call. “The elevator can take you up to his floor, but you’ll have to call in through the intercom to get into the apartment.”

“Thank you,” Jack nods, and turns to the bank of elevators across from the front desk.

He goes over his speech in his head as the elevator carries him steadily upward. He talked it out with Bitty and he knows he overreacted. He knows he said some ugly things, and he jumped to conclusions. He can beg Parse for forgiveness. He can grovel and say he was wrong. He can ask for another chance. He can tell Parse they’ll talk about the future in the future. Most of all, he has to apologize.

When he reaches the door, he presses the intercom key to ring into the apartment. 

“Hey,” he says, calm as possible. “It’s me.”

“Come on in,” comes Kent’s voice from the other side. He hears the lock unlatch and reaches for the handle.

He hardly has time to register his surroundings before he sees Kent, eyes rimmed red, rushing toward him to embrace him.

“I didn’t think I’d get to see you again today,” Kent sniffles, Jack completely taken aback by the show of emotion.

“Kenny,” he begins. “I owe you an apology. I’ve been thinking --”

“Don’t,” Kent says. “It was all me, talking like an idiot --”

“But -- Bitty and I were talking --”

“I know, I get it, I was being stupid,” Kent says hurriedly, interrupting Jack’s speaking and thinking all at once.

“But I know I overreacted agai--” Jack starts again, but he’s interrupted when Kent backs him up into the wall and leans up to place a filthy kiss on his mouth.

“Enough,” Kent says when he comes back for air. “We’re both sorry, it’s fine, it won’t happen again.”

“Kenny,” Jack breathes. 

“Shh,” Kent quiets him, tracing his lips with his fingertips. “I thought I might have ruined this… but all I care about is that we have each other,” he whispers. “That’s enough for me, okay?”

“Okay,” Jack replies, and takes Kent back into his arms to kiss him again.

That afternoon is spent in Kent’s bed, curled up softly into one another, hands gliding and pulling and grasping at each other’s limbs, hair, skin.

“Jack,” Kent moans as Jack kisses down his chest, rubbing his thumbs into Kent’s nipples. “Jack, baby, I --” Jack leans up just then to kiss him again.

Kent’s eyes slip shut and his heart races, willing Jack to continue by tangling his fingers in the longer hair at the crown of his head.

Jack continues kissing down his torso until he reaches his hips, then leans over to suck a mark into the crest that protrudes there. Kent gasps with the pain and pleasure of it.

“Ja-ack,” He stutters as Jack slowly takes him into his mouth. He pants as his eyes slide closed, savoring the sensation of heat around his cock. 

“God, yes,” he whispers, reverent. “Zimms, I love this. I love this so much.”

Jack hums, and Kent whines with pleasure over feeling Jack’s voice around him.

Jack pulls off slowly, sucking at the head, before climbing up to perch himself on Kent’s hips.

“Where do you want me?” he asks. Kent’s eyes rake down Jack’s body, taking in the supine curve of his torso, the milky white skin, and the expression of surrender on Jack’s face.

“Lie on your side?” Kent says as he helps lay Jack down on his bed. “Yeah, that’s it.” He reaches for the lube and makes quick work of opening Jack up for himself, Jack’s small whines urging him on.

Kent tries not to linger in his reverence of Jack’s body, conscious of his actions as he slides one, and then two fingers easily into Jack’s hole. He squeezes Jack’s ass as he goes, and Jack whines muffle into the pillows as he begins canting back onto Kent’s fingers. 

Once he’s satisfied that Jack’s ready, Kent rolls on a condom and caresses Jack’s back while he slides in. He scoots close behind Jack and rocks into him, nothing separating them while he coos sweet nothings into Jack’s ear.

“Oh God, Jack,” he whispers. “You’re amazing. I never want to fight you again.”

Jack just cries out in response, turning his head so Kent can lock their lips together, tongues moving exploratorily into each others’ mouths.

He swallows Jack’s excited moans and knows this means he’s found Jack’s prostate. He fucks repeatedly in at this angle, driving Jack crazy and pushing him slowly towards the brink.

He then pulls away from Jack’s mouth in time to maneuver his hips, flipping them so Jack’s weight rests on Kent’s chest and Kent fucks into him from beneath. Jack cries out again, so close to coming, his eyes jammed shut and his mouth open and wanting.

“Perfect,” Kent babbles. “You’re so perfect, Jack.” He moves a hand to stroke at Jack’s cock, bouncing lightly against his stomach, and Jack seizes as he comes all over his own stomach and chest. 

“That’s it, baby,” Kent coos. “Come for me.” He continues jacking him off through his orgasm, until Jack falls limp against him, panting and seizing every few seconds as he comes down.

“Kenny,” he moans, taking great effort to roll off of Kent and face him as he lies on his stomach. “What about you? What can I do for you?” 

 

“You’re great where you are,” Kent says, removing the condom and dropping it in the trash next to the bed. He jerks himself off quickly, coming on his hand as he arcs off the bed. Jack takes his hand to lick and suck his fingers clean, gazing at him through his eyelashes while he licks his lips.

Kent rolls over and plants a kiss first on Jack’s forehead, then full on the lips, tasting himself, eyes closing quietly as he does so.

They kiss lazily, Kent clutching at Jack’s jaw, Jack running his fingers up and down Kent’s side.

Kent scoots close to Jack’s sweaty body, and they tangle their limbs together like so many lines crossed on the ice. They sleep like that, intertwined, until the sun sets and the lights of the Vegas skyline glow through the windows of Kent’s bedroom.


	9. Chapter 9

“I’m glad you two were able to work it out,” Bitty says, dishing a fresh helping of quiche onto each boy’s plate back at his and Jack’s apartment.

“Mmm-nnh-hffff hnnnk,” Kent babbles through a mouthful of egg.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Bitty chastises him. Kent swallows and takes a breath before trying again.

“It was all Jack,” he says.

“Don’t flatter me,” Jack adds. “We hardly had to talk at all.”

Bitty raises an eyebrow at this, but says nothing.

“Well, as long as you’re getting along again.” 

Kent nods along enthusiastically. “And our skating together is unreal. You should come watch practice sometime, Bits.”

“Maybe I will,” Bitty replies warmly. “Someday when I don’t have work. I’m in batter up to my ears all day. I’d hardly want to show up at the arena covered in flour.”

“You could show up to the arena covered in anything and I’d be happy to see you,” Kent flirts, batting his eyelashes.

“Oh, hush!” Bitty chides, swatting at him as he takes his own seat for brunch.

Kent blushes, despite himself. He ducks his head, smiles, and keeps eating.

Meanwhile, Jack tries not to look smug over his excellent choice of boyfriend.

There’s something about Bitty, Kent decides, that makes him seem a perfect fit for Jack. Jack’s not exactly easy to love, Kent knows - they’ve had their rough patches and fought long and hard to get to where they are today. But Bitty’s been a solid resource for Jack, always there for him when Jack gets angry or antsy or nervous, and Kent has to admit that he’s jealous.

The thing is, he’s not sure of whom he’s actually jealous.

Because even if Jack has his moments, Kent’s missed him terribly. Part of the reason he made up stories about Jack for his teammates is that he wishes he could have lived that part of Jack’s life with him. He may never have been the college type, but he felt displaced in pro hockey without having Jack there. And sure, Jack wouldn’t literally have been there, on his team, but he had expected they’d at least be going through the same changes at the same time, on their own respective teams. The distance he felt when Jack left the draft only worsened the longer Jack continued to live life without him; while physically far apart, he knew (and dreaded) that Jack would change a lot in college. He knew Jack would be changing into someone he didn’t know.

In the end, he knew it was for the best. Who Jack became was really none of his business, but that didn’t stop him from wondering all that time who he was going to be. Who he would be without Kent; where life would take him if he never returned to Kent’s life like things had been before.

Things would never be like they had been before, but Kent had overcome a world of difficulty coming to accept that.

And meanwhile, Bitty was there for Jack throughout all those decisions and choices that Kent couldn’t be present for. And Bitty is this entire entity unto himself that Kent can’t help but feel hopelessly attracted to, with all his fire and vigor that balances out Jack’s insecurity and hardheadedness. Bitty’s entered Kent’s life like a new light, a ray of sunshine he hadn’t expected to be so bright, so dominating over his thoughts and time.

He’s envious that they have each other, he guesses.

Which is what leads him to make his next decision, a few weeks later, one he hopes he won’t come to regret.

“Kent?”

“Huh?”

“I was asking if you needed a ride to practice.”

“Oh, sorry, uh. Just daydreaming, I guess.” Kent shakes his head to chase away the last moments of his reverie.

“So? How ‘bout it?” Jack repeats gently.

“Oh, uh, nah. I’m gonna stop by home and grab a change of clothes first.” 

“Suit yourself,” Jack says. “I’m going to go take a shower.”

“There’s no point in showering before practice, you know,” Kent calls after him.

“There’s no reason to make our team suffer with sex smell,” Jack retorts.

“I do not smell!” Kent snaps, but Jack’s already gone. “Eh,” he mutters, tossing the napkin down. “Bits, you want help with the dishes?”

“No, I can handle this. It’s my day off, so it’s a chance to do dishes at home instead of there,” he says with an eyeroll. Kent stands to kiss him on the cheek anyway.

“I’ll tell Kit you said hello,” he promises, and Bitty rolls his eyes again.

“She’s not a person, Kenny,” he responds, tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Not with that attitude,” he responds, but he shrugs as he steps into his shoes anyway.

“I’ll see you tonight?” Bitty asks hopefully.

“If all goes well today,” Kent replies.

“What does that mean?”

“You’ll find out.” He waves and steps out of the apartment, letting the door close behind him.


	10. Chapter 10

“Hey, Zimms. Is it cool if we go out after this?”

“Maybe. What’s up?”

“Just want to chat,” Kent says, trying to remain nonchalant.

“Sure,” Jack says. “Let me shower first.”

“If you shower too much your hair will fall out,” Kent calls after him. Jack doesn’t respond, so he fiddles with his phone for a minute while he waits.

ME: bitty!! Whats up  
BITTY: Just finishing up break. What’s up with you?  
ME: going out to lunch with zimms. you wanna come?  
BITTY: Can’t, gotta get back to work  
ME: :((((  
BITTY: I’ll see you for dinner! You can wait like 4 hours, it won’t kill you  
ME: yes it will

Bitty doesn’t respond after that. Jack rounds the corner, toweling his hair.

“Just in time,” Kent chirps. “I was gonna leave without you.”

“Like you have anything else to do today,” Jack teases.

“I could be doing your boyfriend if I wanted,” Kent teases back. Jack swats him with his towel and Kent cries out.

“Hey! That hurt!”

“No doing Bitty without my permission,” Jack smiles back.

“Actually, uh,” Kent murmurs, rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Hey, I was kidding,” Jack grins again. “You can do him if you want. We’re doing the sharing thing, right?”

“Right, um, I guess,” Kent begins again. “But there’s something I need to, to uh, um. I’m just gonna say it, okay?”

“Kent,” Jack warns. “You know I don’t like surprises.”

“So, yeah, um. Jack, I think I’m in love with Bitty.”

 

_________________

 

“You WHAT?” Bitty spits.

“I broke up with Kent,” Jack repeats, trying to remain calm.

“But we weren’t even dating yet!”

“So I guess we’re un-not-dating,” Jack replies swiftly. He turns away from Bitty and busies himself cutting veggies.

“But WHY?” Bitty wails, grasping the back of Jack’s shirt.

“I’m not comfortable with where he thought this was going, is all,” Jack says smoothly. 

“Where he thought this was going?” Bitty cries, confused. “What does that even mean?”

 

_________________

 

“Would you let me finish?” Kent yells, holding back tears.

“No, I think I’ve heard enough,” Jack replies, shaking his head.

“But I’m --”

“No, Kent,” Jack says, keeping his tone hushed. He’s afraid there are still people lingering about, despite them being the last left in the locker room. “That’s enough.”

“I’m trying to say that I love --”

“Parse. This is done. We’re done here.”

“You won’t even listen --”

“Goodbye, Kent,” Jack says. “I’ll talk to you later. When you’re willing to act more professional. That’s how we should have been acting all along.”

“But --”

The dressing room door slams behind Jack and Kent sinks back onto the bench, his face in his hands.

 

________________

 

“I can’t believe you,” Bitty says.

“But he’s in love with you,” Jack retorts.

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“It’s a bad thing because _I_ love you!” Jack spits, finally turning to face him.

“But he must love you too,” Bitty insists.

“I didn’t give him time to tell me.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re supposed to be in love!”

“And that can’t include Kent?”

“No!”

“Why not?”

“Because… because aren’t you worried it’ll mess stuff up for us?”

“Absolutely not,” Bitty replies.

“You love him too,” Jack accuses.

“Maybe I do,” Bitty replies, curt. “And I think you love him, too, which is why you’re doing this.”

“Why would I break up with him if I love him?”

\

“Because you’re scared!” Bitty accuses back. “You’re scared to let him back in because you couldn’t handle being together the first time, and you’re scared you’ll mess up again.”

“Why are you mad at me?” Jack groans. “I’m trying to do the right thing, here!”

“Well, I don’t think you did,” Bitty says. “I’m going to find Kent.”

“Bitty, don’t --”

“Don’t tell me what you think is best for us, Jack,” Bitty says, “when you’re clearly wrong.” He heads for the front door, reaching for his phone in his pocket.

“Bits, wait -- what about -- aren’t you --” Jack can’t get a full sentence out.

“Don’t worry,” Bitty presses. “Things are going to be fine. I just have to talk to him, since you wouldn’t.”

Jack heaves a sigh. “Be careful, okay?”

“I know what I’m doing,” Bitty insists.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!” Bitty cries. “If you’d just trust me this once you’d see!” He storms out the door, and Jack doesn’t follow.

 

\-----------------

 

“Kent? Where are you?”

“At home. Where else would I be?”

“I’m coming over,” Bitty says.

“Bitty, I don’t know if Jack told you, but I don’t think you belong here.”

“Why do you both insist on hurting each other? On hurting me?” Bitty sighs, exasperated.

“You can come over if you want, but I don’t think it’ll change anything.”

“If Jack wouldn’t hear you out, I’m going to,” he insists again.

“Fine. But don’t get your hopes up.”

“My hopes have been high this whole time, Kenny,” Bitty bites, raising an arm and hailing a cab.

 

\---------------

 

“I knew it! I knew you loved him, too!” Bitty exclaims.

“But he wouldn’t listen,” Kent replies sourly.

“Then we have to make him listen,” Bitty says. “If he doesn’t, he’s going to lose me, too.”

“That’s… that’s bad,” Kent murmurs. “Does he know that? And anyway, how do you know Jack even likes me back?”

“He… he told me about that night. When he came over here.”

“How do you know it even meant anything to him?” Kent drones miserably.

“Because -- because he talked about it the way he talks about me,” Bitty says, fumbling with his hands. “And I know he loves me. And it sounded like he loves you, too.”

“I don’t know,” Kent moans, rubbing a hand up his face. “I think you’re thinking too far into things, to be honest.”

“Don’t you want this to work out?” Bitty questions.

“Of course I do,” Kent replies. “But I don’t think Jack does.”

“So you’re scared, too.”

“Of course I’m scared, Bitty,” Kent mumbles. “But I’m scared he doesn’t want me, not that things will get screwed up. I’m scared for totally different reasons than he is.”

Bitty can't help but fall a little more for Kent, and how honest and brash he always is. He takes Kent's hand and leads him to the couch. He sits down next to him, and stretches up to place a kiss on Kent’s forehead. “But we have to try, don’t we?”

“I guess we do,” Kent replies somberly.

“Try to sound less excited,” Bitty teases.

“I’m trying not to get my heart broken again! What’s exciting about that?” Kent counters, shoving Bitty lightly with his shoulder.

“Should I call Jack?” Bitty asks, rubbing his own shoulder a little tenderly.

“Can it wait til tomorrow?” Kent asks. “I’m too emotionally exhausted today.”

“So dramatic,” Bitty says, but he says it with a grin. “Sure, it can wait.”

“Thank you,” Kent says, snuggling up to Bitty without another word.

They stay like that, cuddled close together, as Kent orders takeout and leaves Bitty in charge of finding something to watch on Netflix.

 

\------------------

 

 "It's time the two of you talked. I mean, really talked," Bitty says decisively.

“Are you sure he wants to see me?” Jack asks sheepishly over the phone.

“Of course he does,” Bitty replies, trying to keep any hesitance out of his voice. He knows Kent’s hesitant too, but Jack doesn’t have to know that.

“Okay,” he replies uneasily. “So, uh, dinner tonight?”

“At Kent’s place,” Bitty reminds him. “I’ll be here too, so it’ll be all right.”

“If you’re sure,” Jack says, still sounding uncertain.

Bitty takes more care than usual when shopping for ingredients for dinner. He thinks he’ll make both boys’ favorite desserts - he knows that, with the summer coming to a close, they won’t be able to indulge on his baked goods for long.

He also takes care to ask Beck for the next morning off, just in case of a late night tonight.

“I probably won’t even be late,” he reassures her. “It’s just in case my dinner goes well tonight and I have to clean up in the morning.”

She raises an eyebrow at him, but relents. “I don’t want to know a single detail.”

He laughs good-naturedly. “Don’t worry. It’ll be a good thing, and hopefully you’ll get to meet some famous hockey players out of the deal."

“I don’t give a single damn about hockey,” she replies, “but if they’re important to you, I’d love to meet them.”

“They are,” Bitty assures her. “And I’m hoping this dinner will show them just how much.”

“Well, just make sure you’re in after lunch,” she reminds him. “And this is just because you’ve been a stellar employee so far. So no slacking, you hear me?”

He laughs and nods in response, grateful for her giving nature - though she pretends not to be.

 

He arrives at Kent’s place after work, to find Kent still gone. He sets up his kitchen and begins to work on getting all the food ready. He even stoops to give a meowing Kit a friendly scratch behind the ears, and she curls up in front of the warming oven, even as Bitty wishes he knew how to turn down the temp on Kent’s AC in the sweltering heat.

Kent arrives shortly after, barely making it through the door before he strips out of his workout clothes. “Hey,” he greets Bitty. “Already setting up for tonight?”

“Of course,” Bitty replies. “You know I like to be prepared.”

“I do,” Kent says, stepping into his space to steal a kiss.

“Ugh,” Bitty says. “You stink.”

“Care to come wash me off?” Kent offers with a smirk.

“I’d better stay here, make sure the roast doesn’t burn,” he sighs in response.

“Suit yourself,” Kent says, stooping quickly to kiss Kit on the head. She purrs in gratitude.

“I’ll be right back.” He bounds off to the bathroom, leaving Bitty to keep an eye on the food and prep the pie he’s making for Jack.

A few hours later, Kent’s pacing, obviously nervous for the evening. He’d dressed up in a nice pair of slacks, a blue shirt and a black tie, trying to look level-headed but failing as he runs his hands through his hair for the billionth time.

“You sure this is going to be all right?” He asks again, and Bitty sighs impatiently from the other side of the living room.

“It’ll be okay,” he reassures him. “Jack’s about as nervous as you are, so I’m sure he’s thought a lot about this too.”

Kent throws himself on the couch and nuzzles up to him anyway. “God, I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

Bitty kisses his forehead and snuggles closer himself. “It’ll be okay,” he repeats. “We’re all going through a lot right now. It’ll be easier if we have each other, don’t you think?”

“If Jack wants me,” Kent laments again.

Just then they hear a knock on the door. They both rise to get it, but Bitty makes it there first.

“Hi, honey,” he greets Jack at the door. 

“Come on in,” Kent offers over his shoulder.

“I didn’t know we were supposed to dress up.”

“Well, I just, I, um,” Kent stammers. “I wanted to look nice.”

“You’re fine, sweetheart,” Bitty says as he ushers them in.

“How’re things?” Jack asks.

“They’ve been better,” Kent responds honestly, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck.

“I know. I’m sorry,” Jack offers.

“Why don’t we eat?” Bitty suggests. “We can talk over food.”

“Great, I’m starving,” Kent says, turning to lead the way to the dining room.

They eat in awkward relative silence, Jack and Kent chirping back and forth about their ice time that afternoon. Kent had gone to the gym afterward to work off some steam, it seems. Jack, on the other hand, had immediately gone home to tidy up the apartment, another one of his nervous habits.

“I think I owe you an apology,” Jack finally says, tucking his napkin under his plate as he finishes eating. “Um. Again.”

“Maybe,” Kent says with a shrug. “Only if you mean it.”

“I do,” Jack insists. “I should have heard you out yesterday.” 

Bitty rises while they talk, leaving to go grab the dessert warming in the oven.

“That would have been nice,” Kent replies. “I do mean it, by the way.”

“That you love Bitty?”

“Yes, but I haven’t told him yet,” Kent blushes. “I wanted to talk to you first for a reason.”

“What reason is that?”

“Well, I wanted to make sure you were okay with it. And it seems like you’re not,” he adds.

“Again, I -- I probably should have listened to everything you had to say.”

“The rest of what I wanted to say is that I love you, too, Jack. I’m in love with of both of you. If you’ll have me, that is,” he clarifies sheepishly.

“I think that’s up to Bitty,” Jack says. “But I think he’s also game.”

“Then what about you?”

“I think we need to talk about us,” Jack adds. “You and me, I mean.”

“What about us?”

“You two need to talk more,” Bitty interrupts, toting a tray with three plates of pie and brownies. “I can’t deal with the two of you fighting all the time.”

“He’s right,” Jack sighs. “And I know it’s mainly my fault that we kept fighting.”

“No, no,” Kent replies. “It’s been my fault too. I should have heard you out that night you came over here.”

“I was pretty willing to forgo the talk, too,” Jack insists. “If we’re going to do this, we have to be able to communicate. All of us,” he says, looking up with longing at Bitty.

“All of us,” Bitty agrees, digging a fork into his own slice of pie.

“So where does that leave us?” Kent asks.

“Why don’t you start with what you told me yesterday?”

Kent clears his throat as the blush on his face intensifies. “Bitty,” he begins. “Over these past few months I’ve gotten to feel like I really love having you in my life. And if you’ll have me,” he continues, “I’d really like to know what it’s like to fall in love with you. The both of us. Because… because I love you,” he admits. “I’ve known for a few weeks now. And I can wait for you to love me back, but I want you to know.”

“Oh, Kent,” Bitty sighs. “Of course I already love you back. I’ve known since the beginning that I want you here.”

“The beginning?” Kent asks incredulously.

“Well, maybe not the very beginning,” Bitty chuckles. “But at least since the first time we slept together.”

Kent sighs in relief. “Thank you,” he replies. “That’s way more than I was expecting, honestly.”

Jack coughs, blushing his own deep red from where he sits across from Kent.

“And Jack,” Kent continues. “I’ve loved you since we were kids. That hasn’t changed for me.”

If possible, Jack grows an even deeper red. “Really?”

“Really,” Kent assures him. “And you don’t have to love me back right away, either, but my offer’s the same. I’d still like to be with you and find out where this relationship still has to go.”

Jack bows his head, thinking. “I don’t know if I love you yet,” he eventually admits, “But I know that I could. I have a lot of learning to do. I wasn’t exactly the nicest when I met Bitty, either,” he says, and Bitty nods gravely. “And I know that’s not an excuse for how I’ve treated you. But if he can grow to love me, then I know there are all kinds of possibilities that the future can bring for us.”

He rounds the table and kneels in front of Kent. “So I’m not perfect, and this isn’t perfect,” he continues, “but I’d really love to try to be better for you. I’d really love to try to be worthy of you.”

“Jack,” Kent says, and he can’t help it; he starts to tear up a little. “That’s more than I was expecting from you, too,” He adds with a wet giggle.

They stand and hug, and Bitty tries not to tear up as well.

“Damn it, you guys,” he splutters, and they open their arms for him to join him in their hug. He rises to his tiptoes first to kiss Kent, then motions for Jack to lean in for a kiss as well.

“So are we really doing this?” he asks, voice bursting with excitement.

“I think we are,” Kent says, astonished in his own way.

“We definitely are,” Jack clarifies, breaking the hug to ruffle his old and new boyfriends’ hair.

“And coda,” Bitty adds quitely, turning to Kent. “You have to quit smoking.”

“I’m already mostly there,” Kent says, ducking sheepishly and nuzzling against Bitty's cheek. 

 

________________

 

“Are you ready?” Kent asks.

“Just a minute,” Jack says, leaning over into Kent’s personal space. “How’s my tie?”

Kent adjusts it slightly, then runs a hand down Jack’s chest. “You look perfect. How about me?”

Jack tries, for the millionth time, to wrestle one of Kent’s cowlicks into place. It flops forward anyway, despite his best efforts.

“You look perfect, too,” he decides, clapping a hand on Kent’s shoulder.

Kent moves his own hand to clasp Jack’s, then moves both so their hands remain wrapped at their sides.

“Ready?” Jack asks.

“Ready,” Kent replies, finally.

On the other side of the door waits a press conference they’ve been discussing, waiting for, for years. It’s time they both came out to the public, as the first couple on the same team in the NHL. They both vibrate with nervous excitement, and look forward to meeting Bitty afterward, who waits patiently with the Aces staff in the audience.

They’re not ready to come out as polyamorous, but they know they love each other, and know the future holds amazing things for all three of them. It’s not perfect, but it’s what they have for now.

Jack takes a deep breath, squeezing Kent’s hand and steeling against him. Kent nods at him once, and they enter the room to the sound of cameras flashing, still holding hands as they make their way to the podium together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end! I hope you enjoyed!

**Author's Note:**

> You can reblog this work [HERE](http://pbj-epifest.tumblr.com/post/154660480624/fic-on-and-on-and-on) from the pbj-epifest tumblr page!
> 
> You can also find me at lvmi.tumblr.com. cheers!


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